


Parallax

by yukiscorpio



Category: The Last Remnant
Genre: M/M, Other, gays in space
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-10 16:25:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 160,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3296948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukiscorpio/pseuds/yukiscorpio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David, commanding officer of the Valeria Heart, finds an unexpected passenger on his spaceship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AU I wrote for funsies. Please proceed with the assumption that anything can happen, particularly with regards to pairings.

"We're being hailed, Captain. It's the Umbermarici."

"Bring them up."

With the press of a button, a new image is floated just in front of the main navigation screen in sharp, solid colours — the semi-transparent version is still in use, but the Umbermarici is one of their own and they are on auto-pilot anyway.

"Captain David."

Before David's eyes is the bridge of the vessel he used to serve, and the captain he used to work under, a preadolescent boy with long dark blonde hair, large powder blue eyes and rounded cheeks, a perfectly symmetrical, doll-like face that is unusual even by gefyrian standards.

"Captain Qubine. Is there something you want to say, or have you hailed us by accident?"

"I do hate that the 'hail' and 'nuke' buttons are placed so close to each other. I'll get it right next time." Qubine laughs, his expressions and mannerisms betraying his real age. Then again, everyone knows this is not his "true" appearance, just one he has chosen to use.

"Why, I feel like I'm being threatened," David says, amused.

"Because you are so easily threatened. Anyway, I take it you are enroute to Elysion."

"So are you. What about it?"

"I'm some distance from you at the moment. By my calculation, taking our ships' different specifications into account, we are about on equal footing."

"You are not suggesting—"

"A race. See you there."

With that, the communication ends.

The pilot of the Valeria Heart turns around. "Captain?" she asks with a knowing look, already vacating her seat. David jumps in and stretches his arm.

"Thanks, Emma."

"Please remember we have important passengers."

"Of course." As if David would forget. The Valeria Heart is on her way to Elysion because said passengers are attending Congress there. "They won't notice any difference."

With that, the ship speeds off.

 

One of the passengers does notice the difference. Eyes glued to the flight information monitor, he switches between various screens, reading data that normal passengers would not care about or understand. He hears the doorbell but doesn't even look away.

"Yup!"

In comes the woman who found him hiding in the cargo hold a few days ago, and first twisted his arms and bashed him against a wall thinking he was a thief, then gave him a royal telling-off about how he would have frozen to death since that part of the hold isn't temperature-controlled. There was also some screaming about how he was getting everyone on the ship into trouble. But well, he's here now, nothing can be done about that.

"Hey Emmy, are we going much faster than before? And kind of on a different path?"

"I'm Emma. Emmy is my daughter."

Finally he turns around. Wow. This woman looks like a copy of Emmy, just older. She has grey-ish brown hair that is tied back from a slim face. The form-fitting uniform shows off her lean figure, and overall she just looks pretty damn cool. Rush wonders how he'd look in a uniform like that. "Oh wow. Sorry. I'm—"

"Rush. We all know. You know how to read the flight data?"

"Just a bit. I taught myself — I've always wanted to go to space."

A slow arch of an eyebrow. "As a stowaway?"

"I panicked when my sister disappeared, sorry. You guys were leaving and I couldn't find anyone to talk to and..." Never mind. When he explains it now, it all sounds so stupid. "Are people really going to get into trouble because of me?"

"Very possibly."

"Is there anything I can do—"

"You have done quite enough. But your sister will be fine."

"I know, Emmy told me she got in touch with the Gwayn already. It's just... you know... that Hermeien looks kind of... sleazy."

There is a brief pause, then it becomes clear that Emma is trying not to laugh. Rush grins at her, and the ice is broken.

"I shall not comment on his looks," she says carefully, though her face tells Rush that she agrees with him, "but Captain Hermeien is very well-regarded and the Gwayn is a great ship..."

Emma's voice drifts off as she checks the time. Then she goes over to Rush's screen and presses a few buttons.

"Huh?"

She doesn't bother to explain. In a moment Rush sees his sister's face on the screen and nearly yelps.

"Irina! Are you okay?"

"Rush! I'm on the Gwayn! They say you're on an Athlumian ship?"

Irina looks fine, thank god. "What the hell have you done stupid girl!"

"I was on the tour and... went off for the bathroom and then... oh my god we're in so much trouble..."

Unbelievable. Rush feels so relieved, but at the same time he wants to throw things at the screen. "You're in trouble? _I'm_ in trouble, a lot of people are in trouble because of you!"

Now he's gone too far. Irina looks like she's about to cry, and she only does that when she's upset for other people. "I'm sorry..."

"Look, we'll sort that out later. Are you okay?"

Irina nods. "Everyone's really nice to me."

"That's better than what I got! They had me locked up for a while—"

At this point, Emma interrupts. "Then we verified your story and moved you into a suite."

"Well, I suppose..." The suite is massive and plush, he has everything he could need and more, and man, he really loves the food. He'd love to talk to the cook and have a look at the kitchen, actually. The Valeria Heart seems to be a cruiser that ferries people and goods to places, and looking at the crew's (really ace) uniform, it must be military, not commercial. Which makes this ship an... envoy, or something? So suites like this one must have been designed to keep important people comfortable for weeks or months at a time, with top-notch communication systems for people needing to work, amazing food, and maybe there's even entertainment, though Rush hasn't seen evidence of that yet.

But maybe if he asked... "Say, Emma, do you think I can—"

Emma ignores him and looks at the screen instead. "Irina, I'm Emma, the pilot of the Valeria Heart. Your family has been contacted, they know you're being looked after. Captain Hermeien, being who he is, is unlikely to get into trouble for this and therefore my captain should be let off as well, so don't worry too much."

"Oh... thank you Emma."

"Hey that wasn't what you said to me before!" Rush complains, although he isn't really annoyed. He's really imposing on these people who are now going out of their way to help him. If they want to take the mickey a bit then they're very welcome to. Also? _He's on a spaceship and it's absolutely awesome._ "And you're the pilot? Then who's flying the ship?"

"There is a number of people aboard this ship who are capable of piloting it. Right now, Captain David is in charge of the accelerators."

"Captain David, huh? Will I get to meet him?"

"Don't push your luck," Emma says dryly, making Irina giggle.

"I just want to say sorry to him and stuff!" And maybe do the puppy dog thing and ask if he can be allowed to go on Elysion Space Station.

"I think it's the 'and stuff' part we're worried about," Irina contributes unhelpfully, probably because she knows exactly what her brother's intentions are.

"You! Why do you think I am where I am right now?"

"Because you're an overprotective idiotic brother who thinks the best way to find someone on a spaceship is to get on another one illegally and chase behind them?"

As if all this isn't because Irina had been kidnapped once before. Rush swears he's going to give this dear sister hell when they get home.

Behind him, as if trying to keep the laughter out of her voice, Emma clears her throat before speaking.

"Rush, can you tell how long it will be before we arrive at Elysion?"

Rush's gaze darts to the bottom edge of the screen where information is displayed as scrolled text. It doesn't tell him what he wants to know, so he touches the onscreen buttons until it does. "Three hours and two minutes?"

"Correct. This video link will stay up until we dock, and you will remain onboard while we escort Irina here. The Heart will be docked for the next three days until Congress ends, then we will take both of you back to Eulam."

Change of plans. Do the puppy thing now. "Aw? But can I go on Elysion? It's _the_ Elysion Space Station and this might be the only time in my entire life I can—"

"You are from a protected race, young man. The right papers should have been in place before we took you anywhere. What if we lose you at Elysion?"

Despite her words, Rush can tell Emma is wavering. He blinks up at her. "Please? We can do the paperwork now!"

On the screen, Irina groans while Emma frowns at him, then heaves a sigh. "Not unless my captain sanctions it. I will go and ask."

"Thanks so much!"

 

Elysion — the space station, not to be confused with the gas giant of the same name — is manic with activity, as it always is when Congress is held. With dozens of meetings, conferences and presentations taking place over three days, and hundreds of invitees who each have their own entourage, it can be difficult to find quiet locations where one wouldn't keep bumping into people they know and end up spending hours just saying hello.

This is why David picked this bar out of all the watering holes and dining areas available. Out on one of the eight rings that make up the top level of the structure, it is somewhat out of the way, and more expensive too, but as a result it is far less busy than most of the other locations. He is happy to pay the markup for an environment where he can have a decent conversation.

He makes his order, sits back and waits.

A drink is on the table ready for Qubine when he shows up. He rests his backside on the azhdaha leather sofa — a feature of this particular bar — then picks up the drink and gives it a whiff before eyeing David.

"We are imbibing? I have work tomorrow."

"It's not that strong," says David, sipping a glass of his own. "On me. I did lose the race."

Qubine replies with a dubious look, but he takes what is offered. "A prize for bullying a disabled man." He snorts gently. "How is your arm?"

"I don't know; I haven't looked at it for a while," says David, suddenly reminded that he still hasn't switched his prosthetic arm out of pilot mode. He presses some buttons under the manmade skin to put it back into normal mode. "My medic has the tendency to go on and on about it when given the opportunity."

"Is your medic a qsiti?" asks Qubine.

David arches an eyebrow. "Are you generalising an entire species?"

"Well? Are they qsiti?" Qubine asks again, smirking when he receives a defeated look. "Stereotypes exist for a reason. And it is 'genus' in this case, not 'species'," he adds offhandedly.

At the wrong bar and after a few drinks, this conversation would have earned Qubine a fight, David thinks. But Qubine is very good at picking his words according to location and audience.

"Genus? Really?"

"It's still being debated; the ancient classification systems haven't worked so well since the First Contact. I heard that the Academy might have something to say about that this Congress. For now, 'mitra' is still a genus and you and I both fall under that, although we are not of the same species."

This David knows well. On the official register, gefyrians like Qubine are allowed up to two photographs next to their names, and those are the appearances they must use while in active service. David, however, cannot possibly change his physical appearance without external intervention. Qubine would also be able to reattach his own arm if he sustained the same injury David had. And that is just one of the ways in which gefyrians and xiphosians are different.

Still, clear biological differences aside, the various mitras are close to one another. "I think I prefer to use the word 'race' for everyone."

"That oversimplifies the matter," Qubine says, knowing it would make David roll his eyes, "but in this case it's justifiable, particularly since under certain circumstances the mitra peoples are capable of interbreeding and producing offspring, which..."

"Yes, yes. But enough geek talk for now." David would like to do some proper catching up. He shifts on the sofa, turning more towards Qubine. "So how are you?"

"I had a meeting just now, and have to give a minor report tomorrow, but no participation other than that. The Umbermarici is stopping here for the full three days anyway."

Qubine hasn't really answered the question, but David is used to that. "And after that?"

"Two more months flying, and then shore leave for ninety days," mutters Qubine over the brim of his tumbler.

So it's coming up to the time when the Umbermarici and her crew gets a break. "No wonder you look so wound up — there's nothing for you to do for a while."

A few small groups of people enter the bar — one of the many meetings must have just ended. Someone they know comes over to exchange greetings, and Qubine waits a while before speaking again.

"I have hobbies and a social life, thank you very much." He leans back into the sofa. "And I'll be supervising the final round of selection for the elite programme for some of those days."

Then the shore leave will hardly be a holiday at all. David isn't surprised, though.

"You know that you could say no."

"I volunteered. It should be fun. Get them when they're young."

Sighing, David shakes his head. "Now I'm worried for those kids."

"You should be. Any advice you want me to pass on to the candidates, as an alumnus?"

David gives this a little thought. "Don't have a crush on your commanding officer," he contributes, and his ex-commanding officer blinks, then snickers.

"Sound advice, yes. Any other observation?"

"Try not to lose a limb or pick up stowaways." David picks up his drink, deliberately choosing to use his prosthetic arm, smiling to himself. Neither event is really something to smile about but he's in a good mood.

After nearly spilling his drink, Qubine drains it. The tumbler is collected from him before he even gets the chance to put it down. He turns down the offer of another and asks for warm water instead. "A stowaway?" he asks with a lowered voice after the waiter is gone. "This I need to hear! How much trouble are you in?"

"A marshall—"

"Marshall? I hope you have some big favours you can pull in to get you out of this one."

"I'll be fine. Hermeien has bailed me out, so to speak," David tells his friend, then explains the situation. He hasn't met this Rush so far, but Emma seems to have formed a positive impression of him, the opposite of what should happen given the circumstances, and that has made David rather curious about this extra passenger.

When David is done, Qubine nods thoughtfully. "That could have turned out much worse. I believe the maximum penalty for carrying a protected species without the right paperwork is imprisonment for half the average lifespan of the offender's genus."

"That's if I was trafficking."

"True. In this case perhaps your security would've lost their jobs and you would've been given a disciplinary instead. A slap on the wrist, as it were."

And so the hand puns begin. Well, David will never beat Qubine, so he might as well join in. "On the other hand, Hermeien and I had a laugh over it and now he seems to think I'm his pal."

"He does like his chinwags. That's a connection that might come in handy. So what's your next move?"

"Take my VIPs back to their homes, drop off the crew, then take the siblings back to Eulam. I need to knuckle down and get things done first, I can't make them my priority."

"Why not put them on a transport from here? There must be a shuttle going that way, you don't have to handle this yourself."

"I feel responsible, somewhat. I want to make sure they do get back, and another transport just means more paperwork, it'll be just as slow." says David, tipping his head gently to one side. "I've never rubbed shoulders with a marshall properly before. I thought I might use the opportunity."

His warm water half finished, Qubine asks for a coffee next. "Neither have I. This could be interesting. The fuel will cost you an arm and a leg though?"

"Leave my leg out of this, but you can take the arm; I have spares," David makes a move to detach his arm, snickering a little. "Hermeien is footing the bill."

"Ah. I should have ordered a more expensive coffee."

All the hot beverages in the galaxy for this man, David thinks. If he could afford it, he would get him anything. He doesn't think Qubine really understands how much affection David has for him, and David doesn't quite understand it himself either, but it isn't just him — every crew member of the Umbermarici, past or present, feels the same. Perhaps, after all that they have been through together, this is only natural.

But David isn't going to say that out loud here at a bar. "He's paying for the trip to Eulam, not covering all my expenses!" he says instead. "So where are you staying, how long can I keep you?"

"The default accommodation. I don't have anything on, but I'm a bit tired; I've been in this form for quite a long time."

In that case it'll be better to let Qubine go soon. "I thought you might be staying on the Umbermarici."

"There wasn't a parking space available, so I used the park and ride."

Traffic around Elysion is often busy and getting a parking space during Congress, even for invitees, can be difficult. It's not unusual for large ships like the Umbermarici to stop further away and then for passengers to make the last bit of the journey by a smaller craft or a landing ship. But that tends to take longer and David hasn't expected Qubine to do that when they were racing.

"So you strolled for the final stretch and still got here faster than I did."

"It was hardly a stroll." Qubine is nonchalant. "The Robelia is quite swift. You've flown it before."

"I suppose." It is still a comprehensive defeat. He has basically wiped the floor with David's face. "Anyway. If you're tired I'll catch you another time..."

"You are free tonight?"

"I have no plans."

"Then let's go to my room. I just want to switch out and relax, that's all."

"Why not." David gestures for the bill. "Should we order some tea and have it delivered?"

"Room service operates all hours."

"Excellent."


	2. Chapter 2

For the first day at Elysion, the crew made Rush stay on the Valeria Heart, but allowed him to walk around like a normal guest. Which was great, because he got to look around a military spacecraft poking — without actually poking because he'd been warned and he isn't really that dumb — at everything, and then Irina came onboard and he nearly died with relief.

Today, though, Rush got told at lunch that he'll be allowed to go on Elysion, and since then he hasn't been able to stay still. For some reason, Irina finds all this jittery excitement really funny.

"Even if you keep pacing it won't happen faster, you know."

"Shut up, you." Rush glares at his younger sister, but he does sit down. It'd be stupid to wear himself out beforehand. And they told him "after lunch", which can be any time. Does it mean he should sit in the suite and wait? Or is he wasting valuable time that he could be spending looking at the Heart?

Irina brushes out her hair with a brush that has the emblem of Gwayn on it — a gift from the staff there — and puts on a wistful expression. "I guess it is kind of cool out here, you get to go to all sorts of places and meet all sorts of people."

Like Rush is going to fall for that. "Yeah. For the long term though? I think I'd get home sick."

"But an envoy ship like this one—"

Thankfully, at that moment someone strolls into the suite through the door they've left open, saving Rush from having to come up with more excuses. It is a young mitra guy who is wearing a similar uniform to the ones Rush has seen so far but more decorated, with an additional bronze badge on the chest and some other bits on the shoulders. If Rush just digs into his memory for a second he should be able to tell the rank of this guy from all the books he's read before, but he isn't able to summon the concentration right now.

Because dear god this guy is hot.

He has golden blond hair in a slightly asymmetrical style. Dark skin that looks like he has just come back from a holiday in Balterossa. Physique that — god bless these uniforms — looks like he spent that holiday surfing and rock climbing. And a really, really pretty face, like that trip wasn't just for holiday but he also went to do a photoshoot for some fashion magazine.

"You must be Rush and Irina." Oh no he isn't just hot. Listen to that sweet accent! "Sorry to have kept you waiting."

Alright, brain, calm down. Say something. And act normal. "Yeah, I'm Rush. And you're..."

"I'm David, the captain of the Valeria Heart."

He's the captain? A captain of an Athlumian military envoy ship? But it looks like they're around the same age, so how? Ah never mind, questions are for later. "I see. Thanks a lot — I don't know what would've happened without your help!" Rush reaches for David's hand and shakes it firmly. Something feels weird... his palm is probably sweating. He lets go. "Irina, come over and apologise!"

Irina glares at him, but she does do as she is told. "Hello. I'm Irina. Thank you so much, and sorry for all the trouble I've caused."

"Don't worry about it. Everything's been sorted out now, no harm done," David tells Rush and Irina. Rush desperately hopes he isn't blushing. "Though, it will be a while before I can take you two home, since my other passengers need to be dropped off first. I hope that won't cause too much problem?"

"No, not at all," says Irina as Rush short-circuits on _yes more time in space._ "We'll be totally fine. Right, Rush?"

"Yeah, whatever you need to do. We won't get in your way... not again."

David shakes his head, smiling. "Like I said, you don't need to worry about that. Anyway, let's get going."

"Going..."

"Onto Elysion. I'll take you there."

"You? But you're the captain! You must have more important things to do? Not that I'm complaining..."

"On the contrary, I have nothing to do today. Plus, as civilians without invites, you'll need to be travelling with personnel above a certain rank to be allowed onto Elysion during Congress."

Rush's eyes widen. He's pretty sure Irina must be giving him a really unimpressed look now, as if he isn't feeling super guilty already. "I had no idea. So today's supposed to be your day off?"

"It's all fine. Come, the more time we spend standing here, the less sightseeing we get to do." David heads for the door, so the siblings follow.

Rush doesn't know what he's more excited about, being allowed onto Elysion Space Station or being guided by this fine example of a mitra. Even Irina looks pretty pumped, and maybe even for the same reasons. Rush doesn't think he wants to know.

It doesn't take long to get off the Valeria Heart. Just ahead is the security checkpoint, which they pass through easily thanks to David. Then they make their way down the hangar until they reach some clear — but probably not glass — doors, which Rush can see right through. He's about to step foot onto the famous Elysion Space Station. This is so ace.

At this point, David's footsteps slow down. "Rush, Emma told me you're very interested in Elysion."

"Yeah, kind of." Damn, Rush doesn't want his sister to hear that. "For bragging rights, haha..."

"I'll do my best to show you around. In return, I'd like you to help me with something."

Rush wonders what David can possibly want him to do, but it can't be anything bad, right?

"Let's hear it."

 

The day goes by in the blink of an eye. Rush gets used to David a little and manages to calm himself down so that he can take in the awesomeness that is Elysion. As space stations go, Elysion is not the newest or the biggest, but it has played a significant role in the pacification and then unification of the solar system. They still teach this in schools, but most kids see it as just another name and date from long ago that they need to remember, and prefer to read all about the invasion defense battles, the asteroid strikes, the pirates, things like that. Not Rush. Rush remembers this place and the work that has been done, and loves the fact that Congress is still held here.

That is what he tells David when he is asked why he wants to see Elysion, adding that he knows he is a bit weird. David is gracious enough to just smile, nod and withhold any comment.

"Well, how about you then? Why are you so interested in Eulam?"

David's request, in exchange for the trip to Elysion, is that Rush and Irina tell him about Eulam. Not the stuff that can be found in books or on the news, but aspects such as daily life, colloquialisms and what is popular right now. He understands that it would be impossible to learn all about a city, let alone an entire moon, in such a short time, but he is interested in the little things and would like to hear as much as they have to tell him.

"I meet people from all over the solar system. It's not my job to keep my passengers entertained, but them being important people and me being the commanding officer, conversations are almost inevitable."

As Rush ponders on this, Irina nods. "Just don't add 'ace' and 'mint' to everything you say. That's not colloquial at all, it's just Rush-nese."

"Haha, I will remember."

In the evening, after David has taken them back to the Valeria Heart and then gone off again to meet someone, Rush sits in his suite and thinks about what David has said.

So David just wants to sound witty and knowledgeable in front of politicians and such, and actually has no real interest in Eulam at all. Well, at least he's honest about it.

Figures, no one can be that perfect. Guess this explains how David manages to become captain so young as well. But it doesn't mean he isn't nice, because he really has been very nice throughout this whole "oops I illegally boarded your spaceship" debacle.

Still, what a downer.

This helps though, in a way, because it makes David a bit less attractive in Rush's eyes. The man is so far beyond his league, literally in a league of his own, it's not like Rush would ever reach there.

He has noticed how much Irina's been staring at David all day too. Much as he loves his dear sister and thinks she's smart and clever and cute and the best in the world, he's also well aware that this is his personal bias and... well, staring doesn't hurt. Let her dream.

After Congress, the Valeria Heart takes off and heads to Dillmoor. Eating at the canteen instead of in their suite, Rush and Irina listen to Emmy explain their flight route.

"Then we're going to Aveclyff, then Athlum, and then to Eulam," says Emmy, who is dressed in simple sweater and trousers rather than her uniform; she has half a day off today. "You two will get home in about ten days."

Rush imagines the map and draws a few lines on it. That's a lot of distance to cover. "I thought it'd take longer than that."

"Normally it would, but we're going full throttle."

"Huh."

"Are you two going to be okay? Are you missing a lot of college?"

Irina giggles at the words. "My baby-faced brother's graduated years ago," she says, smirking when Rush glares at her. "And it's holidays on Eulam right now, I'm going to be alright."

Emmy looks a little bit surprised. "Really? So are you working, Rush, or doing something else?"

"I work at my family's restaurant," Rush tells her.

"Our place is really good!" Irina adds, as if that makes any difference. "We have people booking tables months before and flying in from all over just to taste our food!"

That really needs clarification. "They come for mum's cooking, not mine. But yeah, if you ever stop by Eulam City, do drop by, dinner's on us!"

"Impressive." Dinner finished, Emmy dabs her mouth with a paper napkin and sits back. "You better not be saying that to everyone here though, you'll be giving away a lot of free dinners."

"Hehe, I guess forty covers would be a bit much..."

An eyebrow goes up. "How do you know the size of the crew?"

Why, isn't it obvious? "A guess, based on the size and type of ship?" Emma gives Rush an expression that says "elaborate", so he does, counting with his fingers as he goes. "Captain, vice-captain, a pilot, a mechanic, six to eight officers, a few people specially to look after the passengers or the cargo, a doctor, two cooks, maybe ten space hands, plus a few apprentices like you. That's roughly thirty to forty, right?"

To be honest, Rush thinks the Valeria Heart is a bit too big for what it does, but he isn't going to ask about that, since what does he, a civilian, know about this stuff? Besides, his sister would just call him a—

"Nerd."

"It's called logic," he tells Irina, partly because he doesn't want her to think he's that interested in spaceships and damn, being on one means he keeps slipping up on that front, and partly because it really is just logic and he wouldn't have gone on about it if Emmy hasn't asked.

"Nerd logic."

What's with Irina recently? It's like she's deliberately trying to give him grief everyday. Maybe she'll stop if he just ignores her.

"It's a good thing to have." At least Emmy appreciates him. "I have to go, but we're going to be back here to play Four Winds later. You can join us if you want? We can even tell you about some of our old missions then."

Rush doesn't know who Emmy means by "we" but he isn't very concerned, since he generally likes everyone he's met on the Heart so far. As he nods enthusiastically, Irina makes a face that says she isn't as keen.

"Thanks, but I'll find something else to do. Playing games with my brother is so... I mean, I used to do that when I was ten."

"Fine, I don't want you around anyway."

"Fine," Irina says.

"Fine," Rush says.

"Fine!" they shout together, then she pokes him in the side, and he tugs on her ponytail.

Well, she isn't such a terrible little sister, really.

 

David likes Rush and Irina.

It doesn't matter too much, truth to be told, whether David likes or dislikes the accidental passengers, since they are only onboard for a short period of time and he doesn't have to see them if he doesn't want to. But of course it is nice to have likeable people around. David has the impression that this sentiment is shared by many others on the Heart too; whenever the siblings come up in conversation, everyone just starts to smile.

"That reminds me, I've been thinking about keeping a pet," says Qubine on the connection David has opened on the communicator in his cabin. The Valeria Heart and the Umbermarici are heading in the same direction and near each other, so it doesn't cost much energy to talk like this.

"What has you getting a pet got to do with..." David shakes his head, resigned. Maybe he has made it sound a bit like there are puppies on the ship. "What sort of pet?"

"A cat, perhaps. But there are too many places on the Umbermarici that a cat can potentially get stuck in."

David wraps a scarf around his neck and tucks the ends in. It's not cold on the ship but it's not so warm that he can't wear an accessory. "Get some fish instead."

"That's not nearly the same," Qubine says. "Anyway. What's with this velocity? You're in a hurry?"

"It's almost time for my injections."

"And your medic can't handle that?"

"He can, but we're out of the serum."

"That's an unexpectedly amateur mistake."

And the mistake is a lie because David doesn't want to explain. "It's all right, I'll get back to Athlum well ahead of time. The speed is also to help burn the new remnant drives in; they've been replaced recently."

"You should have done that before the race."

"I would have if I knew we were going to race." David checks himself in the mirror, and the power indicator on his arm. Still plenty of battery. "Okay, talk later. It's Four Winds time."

"Have fun."

Leaving his cabin, David goes down two levels, choosing to use the stairs rather than the lift. When he arrives at the cafeteria, the table is just being set up. It's going to be the usual crew, minus Torgal. Ironically, Four Winds is a game that needs five or more people to play, and it looks like Rush has been recruited as Torgal's replacement tonight.

"Good evening." He greets, drawing Rush's attention, and Rush does a double-take.

"Hey. I haven't seen you not in uniform before."

"It's the rule on the Heart. When it's your time off, you don't wear the uniform." David takes a seat. Rush is wearing borrowed clothes, it seems. He looks both amusing and adorable in the oversized sweater. "Where is Irina?"

"She doesn't want to play."

The others show up one after the other, Blocter with his arms full of snacks, his apprentice Emmy carrying some drinks and Pagus holding the glasses.

David observes as Emmy makes introductions.

"So Rush, have you met Blocter?" she tips her head towards the blue yama from west Athlum.

"Yeah, briefly. Remember when you hauled me out of the hold..."

"Oh yeah!" Blocter's belly laugh echoes in the cafeteria. "Sorry about that! We're cool now, right?"

"Totally! So, what do you do here?"

Listening to Blocter explain his role on the ship, David smiles. They once shared some classes as cadets and used to play tabletop games together regularly — a habit they've restarted here on the Valeria Heart — then their training paths diverged. Of all things, Blocter is now an accomplished mechanic, a fact that is beyond David's comprehension despite them working on the same ship now.

"When stuff don't work, I get 'em working again," Blocter concludes, nodding towards the qsiti sitting across from him. "Not too different from what Pagus does, actually."

"If by that you mean 'make things better again', then I suppose you're not wrong," Pagus responds. He brushes his long ears — which are very attractive, David has been informed by Pagus's numerous admirers — back behind his shoulders. "I am Pagus, the medic of this vessel. We've already met when I gave you the check up but it's good to be properly introduced. Nice to meet you, Rush."

At fifty-something years, Pagus is more than old enough to be David's father if he was a mitra, but just considered "mature" in qsiti terms. And a qsiti remains mature for many years.

"Nice to meet you too."

"Eulam is mostly inhabited by mitras, am I correct? You don't see many qsitis and yamas there?"

Playing tiles are tipped out from a small chest and everyone begins to flip them face down and then stack them up for the first game.

"It depends on which bit of Eulam you're at but yeah, overall you see more mitras than other peoples. But there's the Winter Wonderland once a year and everyone comes to that. And I live and work in a pretty touristy area so I see the three big races a lot. Sometimes I even see sovanis and others."

This reminds David of someone. "Ah, you haven't had the chance to meet Torgal."

Emmy makes Rush toss the dice, and he wins first turn. "Torgal? Who's that?"

"Our sovani second-in-command. He's on break at the moment."

"You have a sovani for vice-captain?"

"It's uncommon, yes. Less than 0.1% of those serving the army are sovanis," says David. Then he adds, chuckling, "Torgal is our pride and joy."

That draws some ungraceful snorts from his companions.

Blocter picks up a tile and habitually runs his thumb over the carved surface before looking at it. "If he hears you say that — "

"He'll twist his ears outwards and look long suffering, probably." David sits back, contemplating his hand. He's picked up some good tiles. "Anyway, Rush, when we stop at Athlum he'll join us again, so you might meet him then."

Rush does a worried frown, wrinkling his otherwise baby-smooth, unblemished skin, so perfect it looks like an unrealistic computer rendering. David wonders if this is a marshall thing or if he got it from his parents. "Should I be scared?"

"Not at all. We make fun only because he's an... intense individual who can get quite anxious about getting things right."

"Ha, he must be really special then, for guys like you to say that."

"What do you mean?"

"Military people are the cream of the crop, right, and getting things done right is what you're about, isn't it? So for you to say he's over the top, it sounds like he's the perfectionist to end all perfectionists."

David can't say that Rush's deduction is wrong. "He has mellowed out a lot in the past few years, I just continue to mock because I can. And yes we try to do things right, and yet you managed to sneak onboard."

Rush grins, slightly embarrassed and uncomfortable, and David smiles back in reassurance. That is a conversation he still needs to make with Rush, but it can be saved for later. Without Torgal here to make judgmental faces, perhaps he can tell Rush a bit about life in space, since Rush clearly has an interest.

But first...

It's David's turn again. He picks up a tile from the stack and glances at it.

"This round's mine."

Jaws dropping, everyone stares at the tiles David flips down to reveal. His hand is indeed complete. "Already? How?"

David shrugs with one shoulder, trying not to look too smug.

"Luck."

 

It is late — like all empire ships, the Valeria Heart operates on Elysion's local time while in flight — when they finish. Usually tidying up is a team effort but this time David tells his friends and crew to go to bed, and stays behind with Rush, who gives him this look which says he knows what's up.

"That went wrong pretty quickly for you," Rush says as he gathers the play tiles. "I thought you'd be pro at it."

"What made you think that? I'm terrible at Four Winds. We play quite often, but it turns out practise doesn't always make perfect."

David takes the food and everything else back to the kitchen, and returns with two cups of tea. Spotting the choice of beverage, Rush cackles as a cup is pushed across the table towards him, little vibrations making the liquid ripple.

"Tea? You're a proper Athlumian ain'tcha."

That makes David smile — Rush knows what tea is. Then again, he works at a restaurant, so he must be more used to foreign foods and drinks. "That I am. We do drink it all the time. And it's a pretty good social lubricant."

Rush cringes and ducks his head in a comical manner. "Sounds like there's a tricky conversation coming."

David waves dismissively. "Relax, I just have one or two questions. Ah, I hope you don't dislike tea, because if you do I'll toss you out the airlock... I mean we have other things in the kitchen."

That prompts Rush to sample what is offered, his grin visible just above his cup. "Not that desperate to go into space, thanks."

"Really? But you ran onto my ship like a mad fan running onto the pitch at a sports match."

"It wasn't quite like that. Anyway, you want to know how I got on your ship, right?" Rush asks, and David nods. He needs to know how security was breached. "I'd been on a tour on the Gwayn before, so I didn't get on this time, just hung around and watched the ships, waiting for my sister to finish then we could drive home. Then one of Irina's friends told me what happened. She went to look for someone official to get help, and I just ran straight towards the ships."

Eyebrows arch. "And you were not stopped?"

"Well, a tour just ended, there were people everywhere, I suppose nobody paid particular attention."

"I'm more than mildly concerned, but carry on."

Rush drinks more tea. He seems to like it. "I tried to catch people's attention, but your ship was getting ready to go and the noise was so huge no one could hear me. I thought I'd go to the other side where someone might see me, then somehow I was on a pallet and it was about to be loaded on and I was like, fine whatever."

Not that David thinks Rush is lying, but it's still hard to believe. "'Whatever'? You didn't worry about where you might end up or that you could have died in the cargo hold?"

Scratching the back of his neck, Rush looks quite embarrassed. "No, not really. I wasn't thinking straight."

"Clearly not," David drawls. Emmy and the others have made comments about Rush being quite smart, and David remembers his enthusiasm when they were at Elysion, but from what David sees now, he also has a life-threatening lack of common sense.

"Anyway, I guess probably nobody saw me cos I was in the middle between all the trunks on that pallet. You aren't going to discipline anyone are you? It really was more a freak accident than anything."

"It was a breach that could have resulted in your death, or endangered the whole ship if you had malicious intent." This truly could have ended in disaster. David cannot believe how lucky he has been. "But since I got off scot-free, it wouldn't be right to discipline anyone. I'll just talk to them."

Shoulders sagging, Rush sighs with relief. "Thanks. It'd be shitty if anybody loses their job because of me."

It would. David would hate to have to do that too. He picks up his cup and sips from it. "Another thing I want to know, Rush, is how you coped in the cargo hold. I know that Pagus gave you a medical when you were found and said you were fine, but the conditions aren't as well-controlled in the hold."

Rush doesn't seem to think much of it. "I just braced myself between some of the trunks during takeoff. It was pretty smooth actually. There was just a bump when we went through the atmosphere but enh, didn't even get a bruise. This is a really good ship."

And Rush is indeed smart to have found a way to handle a very foreign and frightening situation. Had his background check not come through all clear, this would all have been highly suspicious. But everything has turned out fine, and no, David isn't immune to praise for his ship from someone quite so cute.

"And Emma is a great pilot." In fact, someone of Emma's calibre could be serving a more prestigious ship. Same for Torgal as well. "We are lucky to have her. Although I think she would have disapproved of you hearing about half the things you've been told about tonight if she was here."

"Haha, proper grown-ups, eh?"

"Well, Pagus doesn't mind at all. He doesn't look it, but he's a gossip and really likes a good scandal."

"Like the drunken streaking chancellor?"

"Yes — he nearly took a video to show his friends!"

Rush cracks up. "Man, wouldn't that have earn him the sack?"

David sighs, noticing how much he sounds like Torgal when he does so. All the long sufferance. "Without a doubt." And that would have made things rather tricky for David. "He's convinced that people will find out anyway, and maybe he's right, but we cannot be the source of that information."

"Yeah, I guessed that was why you didn't name names or say where they're from."

"I'm sorry that we can't tell you more."

Fingers drum on the metal table, nails clacking on the imperium with an easy rhythm. Rush has longer nails on his right hand than his left, suggesting that he plays a musical instrument, perhaps the guitar. "Are you kidding? Of course you have to leave out the details but that's fine! I've had so much fun anyway! You don't understand, this is the most exciting thing to have ever happened in my life, and nothing's gonna top this. And now I know there is a chancellor somewhere in the solar system who likes to streak when she's drunk."

"And in exchange, you've taught me much about Eulam. Thank you."

"Eulam's just a little moon though, I don't think you're going to get much out of it."

The words make David pause. He wasn't hoping to get anything or gain favour from Eulam, but it looks like that is the impression Rush has. Well, it doesn't matter too much. Rush doesn't seem to think too much less of him for this and anyway, it's not easy to explain without giving too much away. For all intents and purposes, the Valeria Heart is a simple envoy ship.

"I'm not? So that offer of free dinner was only for Emmy? Or was it a lie?"

Rush smirks. "Definitely not a lie. If you come by Eulam — or if you can stop for an evening when you drop me off, even — dinner's on me. 'fraid that's all I've got after all you've done for me, really."

Best to accept the offer so that Rush doesn't feel like he's held down by indebtedness. He's not a sovani, but having Torgal around has made David sensitive to these things. "I will have to check the schedules first, but I will definitely be there," he says, sliding out of his chair. "And that is all you owe me, can we agree on that?"

Eyes are held, brows are arched, until finally Rush snorts and gets out of his seat too, and extends his hand. "Deal."

David shakes the hand, using his own judgment rather than letting the built-in computer control how much strength to use — it feels more sincere that way, even if he can't sense the touch at all.

Returning to his cabin, David checks his messages — his family asks if he'll be back on time, and he replies that yes but plans have changed, that he'll be home for a night, then has to go away for a few days before going home again. Before pressing _send_ , he wonders if staying just one night is too optimistic, then decides that it'll be fine.

Then he changes out of his clothes, showers, takes off the prosthetic arm and stands it in the charging dock.

Hair still damp, he goes to bed, staring at the small red charging light.

It's strange, but he doesn't mind being an amputee. Of course having a prosthetic with more gyroscopes than there are rings around Undelwalt makes everything easy, but David doesn't even miss the sense of touch very much. It is only one part of him that cannot feel anyway.

He had mentioned this to a few close friends before. Torgal didn't believe it, perhaps assuming that David was only trying to make him feel better. Qubine said "as long as you are comfortable," then slipped him a note with the contact details of a psychiatrist, "but just in case." Others made sounds of surprise but had no comment to give.

"As long as you are comfortable," and he is, except for the handshake. He wishes he could feel the squeeze, the warmth, the strength behind the promise being exchanged, the enthusiasm of two people meeting for the first time. For that reason, when he is the one to initiate the gesture, he always offers his left hand.

Maybe that's what he will do next time, if he has the chance to shake Rush's hand again.


	3. Chapter 3

After the stop at Aveclyff, Rush and Irina become the only passengers onboard the Valeria Heart. Irina does that thing she does, being naturally sweet and charming to everyone, a perfect ambassador to Eulam, the marshalls, and The Tablet, their family restaurant. And for some reason she insists on bringing up her brother in every conversation, until Rush gets so tired of "so Irina told us that you once..." that when he thinks someone is giving him a look, he assumes it's because of something they've been told.

"It didn't happen. Or if it did, it wasn't the way she told you."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh." Rush holds down the downward arrow button until the treadmill slows to walking pace, then reaches for his towel. David comes towards him, looking quite intrigued. And fit, even though he's just wearing a simple tracksuit. Oh god. His eyes are up there, Rush. "I thought Irina told you something; you gave me a weird look."

"I just thought I haven't seen you at the gym before."

"I come here a lot actually," because Rush isn't interested in most of the entertainment available and he doesn't want to bother people too much. "Maybe it's just timing."

David gets on the next treadmill and puts it on the warm-up setting. Rush hasn't seen him since they played Four Winds a few days ago. Presumably he's usually busy, being the captain. "So Irina's been telling stories about you? What have I missed?"

"Nothing." Probably best to start running again. Rush gets into a gentle jog, because he won't try to show off at or compete with the fine specimen of mitra next to him, and a jog is a jog, nobody can judge a jog. "Younger sisters are a pain sometimes."

"I'm the youngest in my family, so I wouldn't know. Actually this means I must be the pain," says David with a smile, his breathing starting to quicken.

"How many brothers and sisters have you got?"

"Seven: four brothers, three sisters."

"Whoa, big family." Rush wonders if the siblings look alike. A small army of pretty people with gorgeous accent ready to steal hearts. "Lots of people for you to be a pain to. Irina can give you tips if you need."

David laughs. "You love her really."

"As if!" Rush huffs. He does not love Irina to bits. At all. "You just don't know about the annoying things she does!"

David doesn't say anything now, and just gives Rush a look that says he knows better. This really is not worth the discussion, Rush decides, and changes the topic.

"So how long until we get to Athlum?"

"About a day and a half. We'll be stopping for a day, so if you want to hop off and do some sightseeing that's fine as long as you make it back on time."

"Yeah? Anywhere you'd recommend?"

"Hmm, around Castle—"

"Wait, 'Castle'?" Rush does a double-take. "Oh yeah, that's the city, right?"

"Yes, it's the city the base is in. I wouldn't eat or buy anything near the spaceport, it's overpriced unless you have military discount," he says, pausing to think. "I would suggest that you take the transit. All the stops along the line between Castle and Virtus Parish are worth visiting, and you won't get back too late."

Cool. From what Rush heard, most of the crew are off home for break, he wonders if anyone would be up for hanging out and playing tour guide.

He makes a look of surprise when David switches his machine off and leaves the gym, saying that he'll be right back, then reappears a few minutes later with...

"Eh?" Putting his feet on the two sides of the treadmill to stop running, Rush gapes at the money David is holding at him, then takes a second to form his best response. "Oh, Dave, darling, you're gonna have to pay me much more than that but..." he gives David a once over, "for you I guess I can do a discount."

David chuckles gracefully. "How are you going to get around on Athlum if you have nothing on you?"

Oh, that. After he got caught by Blocter and Emmy, Rush did get frisked, of course everybody knew he had no money on him, and Irina had already spent what she had on Elysion. But after all this time being on a ship and getting fed for free even Rush has forgotten about that detail himself, this level of consideration from David is kind of crazy.

"Excuse me but I do have my car keys!" he tells David with a grin. "Cheers, man, but I'll only take that if you let me pay you back."

"Pay me back when we arrive in Eulam." David looks around, finds Rush's jacket and puts the money in a pocket. "It'd be a shame if you can't enjoy my home planet just because you left your wallet in the car."

Dear god this guy is so sweet Rush feels like his teeth are going to rot. "Thanks, darling Dave," he says, barely able to stop himself from cackling. "No no, seriously, thanks. And on Irina's behalf too. We owe you money and dinner, okay?"

"Of course."

The whole learning-about-Eulam-for-his-career thing aside, which Rush doesn't even really dislike him for, it's become pretty much impossible not to have a crush on David now. But it's okay. Rush isn't a kid, he can handle this.

As long as Irina doesn't find out.

 

After touching down on Athlum, David heads straight home first — family home, not his own pad.

The house he calls home is situated in Castle City, central for all things, including the spaceport. Once in a while they have a family discussion and make noises about moving to the suburbs, but it's just too hard to give up the convenience of a home in the capital. Though, sometimes the parents also talk about downsizing in general, now that all the children have flown the nest and the place seems too empty with its twelve bedrooms.

But for now, home is still central, with an ever so slightly unkempt garden in the front, and a freshly-repainted front door. David lets himself in, and is immediately greeted by the smell of cooking.

Hearing the door, his mother puts her book aside and stands from her usual chair, by the far window. She goes to him and he meets her half way, giving her a kiss and a hug.

"David. Good trip?"

"About the same as always," he tells her, "but a funny complication happened, I'll tell you about it later. Here, I got you these from Dillmoor."

He gives her the pack of divain hair paintbrushes, and listens to her gasp in delight, immediately saying that she needs to try them out. Then a voice drifts over from the kitchen.

"After lunch, Arianne. Food's almost ready."

Arianne makes an annoyed sound but still, she sits down and strokes her new brushes instead while David heads into the kitchen to find the person cooking lunch, who mock glares at him.

"You know you shouldn't get Arianne distracted before food."

"Sorry, Rynn," he kisses her cheek. "This smells lovely. Are they chiburekkis?"

"I hope you're hungry, because I think I've made too much."

"I'll eat so much you'll be both proud and disgusted."

Rynn laughs at him. "Well? Only Arianne gets a present?"

David does, in fact, have something for this mother too, in the form of biscuits from a famous bakery on Elysion. He presses them into her hand as if they are contraband, and says in a loud whisper, "Just you two this time, so don't tell the others."

He is instructed to hide the biscuits in Rynn's office. The rest of his parents are at work, so the three of them eat together. Then Arianne changes out of her paint-covered tracksuit, into jumper and trousers, and goes out with David.

She goes towards the garage, and he shakes his head. "Let's walk."

"Are you sure?"

"Are you sure you don't want to try out your new brushes?"

"Someone has to go with you." She walks with him, although her face says she doesn't think this is a good idea. "And you know how upset Rynn gets."

As if she deals with it much better than Rynn does. "I can go by myself."

Arianne tucks her chin down a little and gives David a look, one of a mother desperate for her son to do as he is told. He stops talking, puts an arm around her shoulders and squeezes tightly, steering her down the driveway. She feels wirey to him, her shoulders hard and maybe on the sharp side.

She sighs. "I should be the one comforting you."

"I'm a grown man."

"And a war hero, and a captain. But you're my son. My youngest son. How are you taller than me?" she asks, studying his face intently with grey eyes which he has inherited. "Where did the years go?"

It is a question they both know the answer to. David left home in his teens after getting into the military's elite programme by the skin of his teeth; he couldn't stay in a home where his birth mother emotionally abused him without stop. Even in a typical xiphosian home like theirs, where he had the support of his siblings and other parents, it was too much. He escaped — he hates that word now but that was what it was — and depended on the rest of his family to heal Arianne of the pain David's birth father had inflicted on them all when he left.

And now, Arianne is healed, but trapped by regrets. Regret of having taken her anger and heartbreak on her child when she should have loved him. Regret of only seeing him years later when he came home for the first time from the Umbermarici, taller, older.

She deprived him of his family, and the family of him, she had said once after too many drinks.

This, right now, going to the hospital with David where he will be injected with a serum to keep the nerves in his right arm alive, this is about atonement. She wants to be there for him. And he knows he should just let her if that is what she needs. But he doesn't want her to be hurt, which is exactly what happens every time she goes, because there is nothing she can do to help to stop the pain.

"David—"

"I'll let you come with me, but only if you promise you'll put all that behind you once I get my arm back." He pats her on the shoulder. "Hmm?"

They turn a corner, going through the high street, David keeping up the pressure on his mother and shaking her too, until she laughs and nods, then he lets go as if she is made of red hot iron.

"What if people see us and think I'm straight..."

Arianne rolls her eyes. "Because they can't tell this old woman is your mother."

"Of course they can't. All everyone can see is this lovely lady and a dashing young man, and maybe think you're a cougar."

"David!" Arianne gasps with mock horror. "Where did you learn to talk like that?"

"It's Elysion-ese."

"Oh is it now? I thought it might be from your extra passengers."

"Rush would probably have called you awesome instead."

"This Rush. He sounds rather cute from what you've said earlier."

"He is very cute." No need to deny that, really. David has felt very charmed by that smile. "He is also living on a moon that's twelve lightminutes away on average."

"You have two ships."

David doesn't really own the Valeria Heart so she shouldn't count, but Arianne knows that. "I'm enjoying bachelorhood."

She gives his elbow a squeeze. "It's time to move on, David."

It probably is, but David isn't even certain who he is moving on from, these days. "I'll think about it."

"And I'll talk about it while you get your jabs."

"I really don't need my love life discussed in front of my medic, who happens to be a right gossip."

"I'll whisper it then."

"I've changed my mind. Go home, Mother."

"No."

 

While Pagus removes the prosthetic and hooks up some of the connections on the arm stump to a machine, David puts aside the gas that helps him keep calm and numb, folds a hand towel several times, holds it between his teeth, then clamps his hand on the armrest. Arianne clasps it and whispers words of comfort that he can't really hear.

David is given another anaesthetic first, the maximum he is allowed without causing long term harm, which is never enough.

It's not an agony he will ever get used to, but now at least he is prepared for it. The first few times they did this, he had to be strapped to a bed. Now he sits instead, with his legs hooked around the chair's legs, and he screams into the towel from the pain of having his arm crushed all over again.

This is why he would not have this done on the Valeria Heart, where the crew might see.

On the Valeria Heart, suspended in a tank in the medical bay, his right arm is being kept alive, its damaged parts being regrown, so that one day it can be reattached.

Often — and right now — David doesn't think it's worth this. The sensation of bright white, bone-crushing, flesh-rendering pain, the excruciating burn from within, every nerve in his arm literally coming alive, the clenched jaw, the bruises on his legs, his mother's tears — all that for a limb he doesn't really miss.

But it is necessary. For Arianne, it is a chance to be there for David, as well as the punishment she needs in order for her to feel that she has paid for the past. For Torgal, who will never be able to move on unless the limb David lost because of him is restored. For himself, so that he will not have to rely on a prosthetic for the rest of his life.

Arianne and Rynn were not meant to be here that first time. Had David known it would be like this, he would never have brought them. He would have come alone, no matter how much Pagus insisted otherwise. Then again, there are so many things in his life he might have done differently with hindsight, and who can say which way is best? If David had chosen differently, then his partners would not have left him. Then maybe they could be here for him instead, and his family would never have had to witness his agony.

Or if Qubine had agreed to go out with him, then he would be the one here, holding David's hand. Or maybe he would say to David it is not cowardly to turn away from what hurts him, and there is no need to go through this if he doesn't want to, if he doesn't care about having that arm back anyway.

Or if he had been strong for Arianne and comforted her instead of fleeing home all those years ago, then he would not have joined the army, and he would not have lost a limb.

But, except for the pain he has caused his family, and the pain he has to endure, he doesn't truly regret any of it. He doesn't think he can live pretending to love someone. He respects Qubine's choice, and is glad that Qubine doesn't know what happens during these injections. He is proud of his achievements as part of the army. Having a second-in-command whose life he'd saved reminds him of this everyday.

"David. David are you still here. Please, talk to me..."

"I hate... injections."

His mother laughs in relief. He lets go of the armrest, every joint in his hand stiff and uncooperative, and takes the towel to wipe the sweat that has broken out. They stay for a while longer, for David to rest and Pagus to do some monitoring, before leaving the hospital.

"Are you sure you can walk?" Arianne asks her son. "We can call Rynn to come pick us up."

His stump is too sensitive right now, so David has his prosthetic arm in its carrying case, which he passes to Arianne before making a call.

"Rynn? ...Yes I'm fine. Yes... yes... Do you want to join us in town? ...Hmm, okay. See you soon." Call finished, David turns to Arianne, and tries to take the case back, but she wouldn't let him. "We'll have tea at Connely's, and wait for Rynn. Then we're going to the salon."

"Salon?" she asks, letting out a surprised giggle when her son gives up reaching for the case and links arms with her instead. He can't wink to save his life, so he smirks at her instead.

"I think I fancy a manicure."


	4. Chapter 4

Well, it wouldn't be a holiday without accidentally wandering into somewhere unusual.

To be fair, the sign outside does say _Warrior's Honor Tea Room_ , otherwise Rush would never lead Irina into a place like that. But since it's only the afternoon, and Irina's just old enough to be in a pub (on Athlum anyway — she still has to wait two more years back home), Rush decides they can stay for a few.

The place's decor is deliberately old-fashioned. The floor is stone, the furniture varnished wood, and music is playing from what sounds like an analogue machine. At the actual bar area, a row of polished taps gleam under what looks like tungsten lamps but are actually cleverly-disguised electroluminescence.

They go up to the bar, sit down on the stools, and Irina gives her brother a cheeky grin.

"Don't worry, we're in this together. Mum and Dad won't find out."

They better not, or Rush is pretty sure they'll skin him alive.

As soon as they've sat down, a bartender sporting the most well-groomed moustache Rush has ever seen comes over. "He-llo, cuties. Your faces aren't familiar," he says in a friendly tone, now paying particular attention to Rush. "And trust me, I'd remember a... face like yours."

Ah, so this is that kind of pub, huh. "It's our first time in Castle. First time on Athlum, even," Rush says as Irina's eyes widen, and then it all clicks for her and she giggles into her hands.

The bartender's face lights up. "New to Athlum, hmm?" he rests his arms on the bar and leans forward a bit, not quite into Rush's personal space, but maybe just a bit too close for comfort. "So I want you to know, if you have aaany questions at all, come straight to me. I can give you a... personal tour."

Rush laughs it off. Getting hit on by someone probably twenty years older than him. How about that for holiday memories. To say he isn't flustered and quite shocked would be a lie, but Irina's here so he needs to play it cool. "Thanks, but I'm with my little sister, so..." he points at the giggling mess beside him, then does a gesture with his palm pushing down, asking the exceedingly welcoming bartender to tone his welcome down a bit.

"Oh, sorry honey. Understood. So, what can I get you?"

"Well, we came in sort of thinking we can get tea, but obviously we got confused."

"Oh we do do tea when it's still light outside. We do tea everywhere on Athlum, don't you worry. You can have some cakes too — on the house. Our cakes are wonderful." The bartender shimmies away a bit and busies himself. "And this used to be a tea room a long time ago, before the Unification, we just kept the name."

"So 'tea room' isn't what you call pubs on Athlum, then?" Irina manages to recover enough to ask.

"We aren't that weird, dear. This is Athlum, not Nagapur."

A while later, Rush and Irina are polishing off some pastries and cakes, and being told where best to go for their short visit. The bartender has printed off a map for them. What a nice guy. And the food's not bad. Rush would never have thought about using nage leaves to flavour sweet foods. He's got to tell his mother about this later.

"Here you go." The bartender hands over the map when the siblings are ready to go. "Have fun!"

"Thanks. How much do we owe you?"

The man pouts. "I told you it's on the house."

"No no. That was really great." Well, it was pretty good anyway. "I work at my family's restaurant, so I know it all adds up. And paying is the best compliment I can give to Warrior's Honor."

The bartender gives Rush a sort of touched expression, then goes to ring the till. "You're such a lovely boy. If only I was younger..."

Rush pays with cash. Irina blinks in surprise. "I didn't know you have so much money on you."

"It's Dave's. We're paying him back later," he tells her, and she gives him a funny look. "What?"

"Since when is Captain David 'Dave' to you?"

Ah, shit. "It was a joke—"

"Captain David? You don't mean... delicious dark skin, shimmering blond hair?" The bartender cuts in, reading Rush's face. "He's the friend you're visiting? I can't believe it... What is the relationship between you two? Ooh! I'm so jealous I could throw a fit!"

Nervous laughter. "There's no relationship for you to be jealous of." Although Rush wouldn't have minded if there was. "You know him?"

"Who doesn't in Castle?" says the bartender, incredulous, but then he thinks about it again. "Actually, people tend to forget quickly. But what a striking figure. So beautiful. He comes in here once in a while too, not as often as I'd like, sadly."

So David is, or was, famous? Huh.

On his way out, Rush says his thanks again, pinches a business card and gets the bartender to put down his contact details. The man squeals and says it's been years since he got asked by a young man. His name, it turns out, is Guy.

Rush gapes at the card and tries not to comment.

"Yes, yes, I know," Guy, the bartender guy, the gay guy, says with a soft roll of his eyes. "Now run along. And tell David to drop by more often."

"Thanks, Guy. You're such a sweet guy."

"Get out, boy, before you turn me into a cradle snatcher."

 

They go back to the spaceport the next day, after spending the night at a bed and breakfast. They're early and can't board when the captain's not here yet. There are transporters that can take them to other cities, but that's quite expensive and they only have an hour or so to kill, so Rush makes the executive decision that they're going to hang around the spaceport, ogle at stuff and do some duty-free shopping instead.

They end up picking up a lot of things — cookbooks on traditional cuisine from various regions on Athlum for their mother, who collects these things, for example. Apparently digital copies are just never the same. They also bought some more clothes, on top of what they got yesterday, because they got really tired of having to borrow clothes. A ridiculous (or in Athlumian terms, adequate) amount of tea. Then they find themselves in a specialist model shop, staring at miniature spaceships.

"Do you remember which ones dad's already got?"

"Yeah." Rush brings his face right up to the display cabinet. "Look, it's the Gwayn." He points at the model of the expedition vessel that took Irina, which is Nagapur's flagship.

"Oh, maybe I should get one as a momento."

"Get whatever you want as long as you pay Dave back yourself."

"Yay! How about that one, has dad got it?" Irina points at the ship next to the Gwayn, which is the Umbermarici, one of the empire's most important frontline battleship. Its captain is a gefyrian mitra, as far as Rush knows. Next to that is the Blue Elf, another great battleship, captained by a qsiti, but Rush can't remember which specific race. Is it the albic?

The Valeria Heart isn't amongst the twenty-odd models available. Not that this comes as a surprise at all, but Rush really would've liked one.

They end up picking the Niram, twin to the Namul which their father already owns.

"Rush," Irina says when they're back near the hangar, waiting.

"Hmm?"

"I think after college I'm going to work at The Tablet."

"What? After all that studying, you wanna cook?"

Irina shoots Rush an "are you stupid" look. "I'm going to be the accountant and help Dad out!"

That wouldn't be a bad idea. The Tablet is insanely popular and very expensive, but its outgoings are also huge. Their dad has never been trained to run a business, and while he takes all the bookings and makes orders in his stride, he does struggle with the number crunching and general workload, which has just grown and grown over the last few years.

"Have you talked to Dad about that?"

"Not yet, but I will. I reckon I can save us some money, then we can hire more people. We can even expand — I know we can do it!"

Rush would tell Irina not to be so cocky if he doesn't know that she's a little genius. "Before all that, we need more help in the kitchen."

She nods. "I know, I know."

"I wonder if Mum's alright."

"She said she'd get someone in to help with the prep."

"Yeah but..." Rush says, his voice drifting off when he spots the man they're waiting for coming over. David has a sovani by his side, who is warm grey in colour, and has shoulder-length braided hair. This must be the vice-captain Rush has been told about before. "G'morning."

"Good morning," David replies, although it's almost afternoon. Introductions are made, greetings are exchanged, then the captain makes an announcement.

"Let's collect your things. We're travelling on Torgal's ship."

Rush and Irina exchange a look of surprise. "Yeah?"

"It doesn't seem worth taking the Heart with so few people on it. I hope you don't mind; the Brionac is a very nice ship, I assure you."

"Of course we don't mind." Getting to ride on another ship? As if Rush would turn that down.

The Brionac turns out to be a short-range ship that can take six or so people and can just get to a bit further than Eulam before needing to refuel. It's not new or flashy, but it's got proper class, for the lack of a better description. Rush wonders how much a person has to earn to be able to own something like this.

But, this being a personal ship rather than a military one, and the fact that nobody's wearing their uniform, it means what Rush suspected before is true, that David is supposed to be on break right now. And presumably Torgal too.

With that in mind, Rush finds David in the little lounge area, soon after they took off. Suspiciously, Irina just wants to stay in her room. Rush decides he doesn't want to know what kind of ideas his little sister might be having in her head right now.

"Hey," Rush says, then spots the book in David's hands. "Sorry, you busy?"

"Not at all." The book is closed and put aside. "That's a nice outfit, by the way," he says, giving Rush's new duffel coat, tee and jeans an appreciative look.

"Haha, thanks. Got sick of borrowing clothes." Rush takes off his coat, sits down on the sofa a polite distance away, and tries not to spend so long admiring how nice David looks in just a black shirt and skinny jeans. Then David shifts, turns towards Rush and leans to one side, and Rush feels like he can't even look anymore.

"Did you have a good day in Castle?"

"Yeah, it was great. You saw how much shopping we've done."

"Not nearly enough."

Rush snorts. "I'll try harder next time then. You know, when I come over legitimately and all that..." he says, suddenly spotting something. "So you've been clubbing? Would explain why you look so knackered."

David frowns, then follows Rush's gaze, lips curling in a smile when he sees what is being referred to. He holds up his left hand, which has perfectly manicured and painted black nails. "Something I did with my mothers for their amusement."

"Right." Rush wouldn't have thought much of it, but wait, did David said mother _s_ just now? And didn't he say before that he has lots of brother and sisters?

Oh.

Damn.

David's xiphosian. He _shares_.

That's the biggest damnation that has ever damned, dammit.

But hey, how does it matter? It's not like David, an Athumian space captain, is going to be interested in him, a sous chef working in a restaurant on Eulam. And now Rush just isn't interested anymore. And that doesn't mean they can't be friends.

Noting the sudden silence, David tips his head. "Hmm? What is it?"

"Just curious, how many parents have you got?"

"Five."

Yup, definitely xiphosian, not a lesbian couple who really likes children. "And seven brothers and sisters, right? How do you remember all the birthdays and anniversaries and stuff?"

"Only vaguely. My eldest brother is a marvel who remembers everything and reminds everyone else. I put it all on a planner as well." David seems to find the question quite funny. "Some of my siblings are married and to be honest, it's hard enough just remembering the names of their partners and children. But this happens to everyone so nobody takes offense."

"Oh," Rush drawls, nodding, feeling embarrassed. "Sorry, hope it wasn't racist to ask. I've been wondering about that for ages."

Fingers curling, David rests his head against a fist. "Not at all. I'm just amused — when people ask, they tend to want to know things like... bedroom arrangements."

"Shit, that's private! People are pretty rude."

"Yes and, well, perhaps it would help if there was just a definitive answer, then people would know that and not need to ask. But everyone is different, there isn't just one answer."

"And that's all I need to know." Because it's not like Rush isn't already imagining David being in bed with another two or three or however many people. Rush can't ever do it, but it doesn't mean it's not hot. They need to steer away from this topic right now. "That was, er, illuminating enough, thanks."

There is a short silence, then it is David's turn to look a bit sheepish. Then he looks away, uncrosses his legs and starts to stand. "I'm going to get a drink. Would you like one?"

Rush runs his mind over the words he has just said — he thinks he knows what this is. _Illuminating_. He's going to need a drink-drink for that one. "Sure. Lager, if there's any?"

"I'll take a look."

Only a minute later, David returns with a lager and what looks like tea. Rush takes a big gulp of the lager, then turns to the man who he doesn't really know but now sort of thinks of as a friend.

"So, what I meant to say when I came in... you're supposed to be on break, right? But you're here instead."

"The license to carry you and Irina is granted to the person, not the vessel."

"So you've got to be here, you couldn't just leave us with Torgal?"

"Torgal could have signed something but I want to see you off anyway, so don't worry about that. And don't worry about Torgal either, he hasn't got anything better to do." David dismisses the whole thing.

"Still." It doesn't make Rush feel that much better. "You don't look so good. I noticed since when we were at the hangar. Are you alright?"

David seems startled by the observation. "I had something to do yesterday. Perhaps I pushed myself a little too hard. Is it obvious?" he asks, and Rush isn't sure, but he shakes his head anyway. "Please don't let Torgal know. He gets worked up too easily."

Rush has heard about this before, back on the Valeria Heart. "Okay."

"I meant to fly you home myself, but thought the better of it and asked Torgal instead."

"You mean he's doing this for you and he doesn't even know why?"

"He owes me a few favours. Or he thinks he does."

What kind of a relationship is that? Rush isn't sure how he feels about this, and it probably shows, since David shakes his head, resigned.

"I don't like it, but doing this makes him feel better. And have you ever tried to get a sovani to change their mind?"

If David puts it this way, then Rush understands. "No, but I've heard about it." He takes another drink, and watches David mull over his tea. He makes even staring into empty space look pretty.

Then, eventually, David's attention is back on Rush, his gaze kind of laced with guilt. This is sort of getting back to the other topic. And since David told him about the xiphosians, Rush doesn't mind showing him a bit of the marshall thing.

"You wanna see it, right? The Blessing."

It's obvious that David wants to deny it at first, but Rush just smiles at him until he flushes in embarrassment instead.

"Give me a few minutes. I'll show you." Rush drinks more from his glass, now half empty.

"Rush, no. Please." David shuffles closer. "Don't do that just to satisfy my curiosity; your people had been killed because of it."

"Not anymore," Rush says. It's sweet of David to worry, but there's really no need. "And we call it the Blessing, not the Curse, cos we aren't afraid of it. Hold on." He tries to concentrate. "It happens when we're really excited, or angry, or scared. You know... 'states of heightened emotion or stimulation'. If I think about things for a few minutes it'll start."

Hearing that, David looks more relaxed, although still maybe a bit uneasy. Rush takes a deep breath and keeps trying to think of things. He knows what, or who, would excite him right away, but he isn't going to go there. He can think about when he lost Irina though, that should work.

"It's like... I'm usually quite chilled though, so getting myself worked up enough for the Blessing isn't actually that easy," says Rush after a minute.

"Rush?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you ticklish?"

Before Rush's brain can even process the question, he feels a poke in his side, and his entire body jumps involuntarily. "Shit!" he yelps as David launches a full attack, hands going for his underarms, his sides, the back of his knees, even pulling off his shoes to get to his feet.

Within half a minute, Rush is writhing, caught somewhere between laughing and crying as David tickles him gleefully, almost knocking their drinks off the table, and certainly making casualties of the cushions.

"Enough! I'm sure that's—" Rush tries to say, near hysterical. He pushes at David. "Look! Dave!"

When David does stop and look, he sees what they have been trying for, the Blessing, a soft white light glowing on Rush's skin. It forms a symmetrical pattern, and looks like a deliberate design, with long brushstrokes, petals, even areas which look like snowflakes. They spread from Rush's forehead, down to his face and neck, disappearing under his collar.

David drops his hands and falls silent. Rush pushes up his sleeves to show the light pattern blossomed there, which looks like lengths of vine crisscrossing and winding down his arms. They go all the way down to his fingertips.

David still says nothing, his eyes tracing the pattern that is unique on every marshall person.

"It covers everywhere." The lines extend down his back, his legs and, well, everywhere else, and Rush belatedly realises it sounds like he's inviting David to check.

"It's beautiful." David breathes the words out, as if worried that anything louder would damage the scene before him. He looks up again, tracing the unfathomable lines, until he meets Rush's eyes. "Thank you, for showing me something so extraordinary, and so personal."

Rush swallows hard, his breath catching, suddenly remembering just how close David is, having practically climbed on top of him to tickle him. He watches David's gaze dip briefly to his lips.

He is pretty sure he is glowing really brightly right now.

David leans down. Rush tips his face up.

What...

What the fuck is he doing?

Rush gasps and ducks, trying to sink into the seat. David's eyes widen then, and he scrambles backwards to be out of Rush's space, scooting away until he hits the other end of the sofa.

Shit! What the hell does he think he's doing, trying to make out with someone when the door's open, and his sister can walk in any moment? When he's on a ship being given a lift home?

"I— I'm so sorry." David speaks first, his face bright red, one hand clamped over his mouth, muffling his voice. "That was completely out of line—"

"No it was totally me—"

"You were showing me something stupendously important and I just... I'm absolutely mortified by my own actions. I apologise unreservedly—"

"I encouraged you, it's my fault! This is your second's ship I can't believe I tried to... ah, crap." Rush looks down at his hands. "Is it just me, or am I actually _strobing_?"

They both quiet down, and watch the light of the Blessing. It's almost undetectable, but it's pulsating rapidly, glowing just a tiny bit brighter every...

"It's in time with my heartbeat," Rush realises all of a sudden, the absurdity of it all making him give up and just laugh. "Dave! Look!"

He shows his arm to David, who cautiously edges forward again and studies it, and a tight laugh breaks out of him. "Yes, you are indeed strobing."

"Man, I can't believe this." Rush drops his arm. He's strobing. And he almost got kissed. And David is so damn cute about it. "So yeah, this is what it looks like. It usually takes a few minutes to fade, but I've no idea how long it'll take this time."

"I... see..."

Rush points at the table. "Can I have some of your tea?"

"Oh. Of course. Go ahead."

Rush takes two gulps of the tea, still hearing and _seeing_ his heartbeat, and that's starting to be less funny and more awkward.

He starts getting up, leaning over to put on a shoe David has yanked off him, and picks up a cushion that has been pushed off earlier. He fluffs it up and puts it back. "I should, er, go to my room."

"Rush, if I—"

Rush's brows gather. "Torgal won't find out, don't worry. We'll talk later, really. Just not right now. If Irina comes in and sees me like this she's gonna ask."

He doesn't wait for a reply. With quick nod and what he hopes is a friendly smile, he legs it out of there and darts into his room, still aglow from top to toe.

Wow.

_Wow._


	5. Chapter 5

"How was your time off?"

The look Torgal gives David is so long suffering, so bitter that David nearly goes over and gives his shoulders a reassuring rub. And he would have, if he didn't know that Torgal is essentially his opposite when it comes to being tactile.

But after a moment Torgal gives a soft sigh and his lips tug in a way that looks almost like a smile. "It was good, Captain."

David has half expected at least some attempt at resentment after he "approved" Torgal's "holiday application", then lied to him about when they were next taking off, and left him on Athlum, so this response is a pleasant surprise. He even has a whole speech planned, about how Torgal's holiday allowance has accumulated to a worrying level, and that he is setting an example so that David feels like he shouldn't take days off, et cetera, but apparently that's all unnecessary.

He takes the seat next to Torgal, idly running a hand across the dashboard. Classic black leather, trimmed with what looks like blacksteel. This is his first time on the Brionac, although he has seen it parked before. It is an old model from a now-defunct company, and has quite a lively group of fans and enthusiasts. And riding on it now, David can see why. What a beautiful machine. The transition between Athlum and Celapaleis's gravitational fields was just a simple glide. Okay, maybe David is a bit envious. But he already has his own ship and doesn't need a classic vessel like this, nor would he do it justice.

"So how was it good? Your holiday."

"I gave this ship an overhaul," says Torgal. That does sound like the definition of a good holiday for someone who enjoys that kind of thing. "You called just when I was looking for somewhere to take it for a run."

That sounds like quite the coincidence, but David believes what he is told; Torgal always tells things as they are. "Even so, thank you for your help."

"It is not a problem at all. But is something wrong with the Kellendros?"

"No. I just don't want to use him," says David, hoping that is enough an explanation. Luckily, Torgal just frowns a little and doesn't ask further.

Strictly speaking, David hasn't lied. What _was_ a lie was telling Arianne and Rynn he felt fine after the injection. He doesn't think going home right away would have improved matters, but staying out and then having dinner with the rest of his parents certainly made it worse. By the time he was back in his own place and went to bed, he knew he shouldn't be flying the next day.

He hasn't expected anyone to notice though. When Rush pointed it out, he was surprised.

Rush...

"I should tell you about Rush and Irina. They were on the Heart."

David explains the whole thing. When he is done, Torgal just does a small nod.

"Your thoughts?" David asks.

"We had an obvious security flaw."

"Yes. Blocter will be installing additional scanners in the hold."

"The security at Eulam City Spaceport is astonishingly slack."

"Also true. Firm words have been issued."

"You are lucky it was Hermeien."

"Very much so. I've not had a chance to talk to him before this, actually. He gets things done."

"Yes, in a way only someone with influence and connections can."

"It's something to aspire to." There are aspects of Hermeien that David does not want to follow, though — the narcissism, for example, even if Hermeien clearly only plays it up for a laugh. "That being said, this is all his fault to begin with."

"That is true. Still, we could be thankful; a security flaw has been revealed before it could be exploited by anyone malicious."

"Yes, yes." David sighs. "Rush and Irina are the very opposite of malicious, too."

Maybe David is now the malicious party, even. How disrespectful had he been? The marshalls had been hunted — _hunted_ , as if they were mere beasts — because of the Blessing. Some believed it had healing properties or that it could grant eternal life, which is of course a load of hogwash, but David is well aware that people are ready to believe in anything, or use belief as an excuse to commit atrocities. Qubine has shown him that.

And then there were those who just wanted the skin of a marshall to string it up to a low alternating current so that it glows. For display. For decoration.

That surely is enough to make anyone's blood boil.

The practice isn't even that old. It is recent history, and there was even one case of child-snatching in the last five, ten years. That is why the marshalls are a protected race.

But, despite knowing all that, David made a move on Rush when he was being shown the Blessing. That was wrong. More than wrong. David has spent two days wallowed in self-disgust, and thinks the only way to make things better would be to apologise again, but Rush clearly does not want to be alone in a room with him.

So, what can David do next? He gets a feeling Rush is less worried about when or how it happened, but that it happened at all. He said that he wouldn't tell Torgal, which was very kind of him because David would be so embarrassed if Torgal found out what he tried to do while on the Brionac. But Rush also mentioned Irina, and while having a sibling walk in on that would also be extremely embarrassing, David wonders if there is more to it than that. David is fortunate to live in a city where if he went out in a dress no one would think that was anything unusual, but on some planets and moons, and in some families, sexuality and gender expression are still difficult subjects. Perhaps Irina doesn't know that Rush prefers men. Or maybe Rush doesn't like men at all? No, that can't be. It was a moment of madness but David does remember Rush claiming that he encouraged him.

Even that is not the biggest problem right now. The main issue is David had climbed on top of a man and tried to kiss him as if that was an acceptable thing to do when he was being shown something of cultural and racial importance. Even with alcohol that would've been inexcusable, and he was totally sober.

They land on Eulam tomorrow. David has to do something about this soon but he simply does not know what he can do.

"Captain."

Oh, no, he's spaced out in front of Torgal. "Yes?"

Torgal gives him a scrutinising look. "Get some rest."

"I thought I'd come and relieve you."

"The rest of the flight route is entirely clear. We can go on autopilot until landing."

Well, in that case David isn't going to stay around for Torgal to keep scrutinising him. He leaves the cockpit, thinking perhaps he can start on dinner soon, then he notices someone waiting outside his room.

Irina speaks first, looking just a little bit uncomfortable. "Captain David."

David hopes very, very hard that this isn't going to be about Rush. "You don't need to call me captain, you know." He smiles at her. Has she found out about what happened? Please, please don't let this be about Rush.

"I'll try. But I think I've got used to it now." She pushes herself off the wall she has been leaning on. "It's going to be dinner time soon, I thought maybe I can help?"

Heating up ready meals isn't exactly a two-person effort, but David leads the way into the little kitchen anyway, and Irina shuts the door behind them.

"You know, before we met for the first time, I assumed you were more like Captain Hermeien, or older."

A tactical start to what should be a difficult conversation. "I'm hardly the youngest to have reached my rank."

"Really?"

"Really. I'm no record-breaker."

"Well I think it's amazing anyway."

"Thank you," says David, who can't fathom the reason behind the flattery, "but please, just say whatever it is that you need to say." Even if it is about Rush, David would rather get it out in the open now.

Irina tucks a lock mid-brown hair behind an ear and looks away. "Well, there's something I want to talk to you about," she says quietly. "It's about my brother..."

Damn it.

David makes a sound of recognition, and busies himself with getting the food out.

"Rush has always wanted to work in space," Irina begins, and David pauses. This conversation isn't what he thought it is going to be. "You probably can't tell, since he works in a restaurant, but he's really smart. Really really smart. He picks skills up in a flash. Years ago he tried for the elite programme for the Intergalactic Army and got through pretty easily."

David stops everything he is doing. Rush, on the same programme that took him on? "I'm listening."

"He got all the way to the final selection. They were going to fly him to Celapaleis for that," says Irina, staring at the food cartons. "And then... I got kidnapped."

David draws a sharp breath. "Kidnapped? You were the marshall child who—"

"You know about that, huh. The most recent one, yeah, that was me. It was a bad period for everyone. That's why he lost his marbles when I flew off on the Gwayn... bad memories."

"I see..." Now David feels bad for having judged Rush for that.

"Anyway, as you can tell, I got rescued. When I got home, I asked Rush how he got on with the selection. He said he didn't get through."

That would have been the end of the story, and there would be no reason for Irina to talk right now, so David can expect what's coming next. "He lied?"

Irina nods. "I found the letter. He pulled out of the programme."

The sigh leaves David's lips before he can stop it. Thousands apply to that programme, and only twenty make it to the final exam. The decision to drop out would have been heartbreaking to make.

"I was gone for three weeks, Cap— David. My parents were worried sick, they were a shadow of themselves by the time I saw them again. Rush couldn't leave them and go to Celapaleis, I guess. Even if he went, with so much distraction, that final exam would be..."

A moment of silence, then David decides to say something. "First of all, let me say this: what happened must have been horrifying. You're very courageous."

Irina shakes her head. "It's not like I got tortured or anything. They wanted me unblemished, you know... for my skin. They wanted to keep me for a few years, wait for me to grow taller... makes a more impressive display."

David swallows a curse before it leaves his mouth. "Even so."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Thanks."

"But I don't understand — why hasn't Rush tried again? There are many career opportunities in space even outside the army. The freight and passenger travel industries are always expanding. He could even be a chef on a cruiseliner."

Shoulders dropping, Irina exhales heavily, leaning back against a counter. "He started working at The Tablet — our restaurant. Then things happened and we got into money trouble, we couldn't afford to hire someone to replace him if he left. Then Mum got ill. Then we needed money for my tuition fees. Then other things happened."

An unfortunate set of circumstances. "Life happened."

"Yes." Irina picks up a carton and puts it in the cooker. The machine detects what has been put inside and selects the cooking method automatically. "We were all... overwhelmed."

It can't be easy for her to talk about her family like this to someone who is still very much a stranger. "What is it that you'd like me to do, Irina?"

"Encourage him? He keeps lying about it but I know he still wants to work in space. He thinks you're really cool, you guys are roughly the same age, and you're where he wants to be, so I think he might listen to you. Our circumstances are much, much better now, we have money, we have more customers than we can handle, and I'm finishing college. He doesn't have to give up his dreams for me, or for Mum and Dad."

Rush thinks he is "really cool"? David doubts that to still be true. He isn't even sure if Rush would be willing to give him the time of day. But he can't very well ignore Irina's request.

"Okay. I'll try."

"Thank you so much."

 

Two hours before landing, David metaphorically corners Rush, and asks for a moment of his time. Rush rolls his lips in, looks around, then nods.

"My room?"

Every room on the Brionac is the same. Again, the best word to describe the decor is "classic", with brushed steel, blacksteel and leather covering most surfaces. Rush's coat is on the fold-out hook behind the door, and the rest of his possession neatly repacked, all his shopping now placed into three bags rather than scattered among twenty.

David can keep making observations, or he can start now. He best start.

God, his heart is beating so fast, if he was a marshall he would be glowing right now. "I'm sorry about the other day," he says as soon as the door is closed. "I'm extremely sorry."

Rush just casually sits down on the edge of the bed. "It's alright, Dave. Unless you're seeing someone? Or married? Then hell no it ain't alright."

"No, I'm not seeing anyone at the moment." What is Rush even saying? "But that's still not all right."

"Alri— fine. I know what you're thinking. It would've been bad if one of us said no and the other person carried on, yeah? But that didn't happen. In fact, nothing happened! Stop getting yourself so worked up over it!"

David cannot believe what he is hearing, but what Rush just said does have some sense to it. "Still, I..."

"Well, your timing was crap, I gotta agree. I suppose that part was offensive, so I'll let you apologise for that."

Just go with it, David, if that's what Rush wants. "I'm sorry," he says, so relieved he wants to slump against a wall right now. "I honestly don't know what came over me." Maybe he's been single for too long, he wants to say, but that would make it sound like Rush's attractiveness had nothing to do with it and anyone would have done. David would hate to give that impression.

"Impulse, maybe?" Rush suggests, starting to smirk when David stares at him blankly. "Well, I hope so anyway; I've never heard of the Blessing affecting anyone in any sort of way. You're not the impulsive sort of guy usually, I guess, that's probably why you freaked out."

If by "impulsive" Rush means climbing on top of someone he isn't in a relationship with and trying to kiss them, then he is right, David is not usually an impulsive person. "If my reaction was 'freaked out', then you freaked out too."

"My sister could've walked in! Of course I freaked out."

"Then you wouldn't let me talk to you for two days."

"That's so not true! I just didn't want Irina to see me going into a room with you. She's been staring at me for two days solid, like she's studying me or something. I don't know what she's thinking but I just wasn't comfortable."

Is this about what Irina said earlier, or... "Rush, do your family not know, or do they dislike the fact that you like men?"

"I like girls as well. I like everyone. They're cool about that." Rush laughs a bit. "The thing is... it's complicated, and not something you need to worry about. Trust me, it's got nothing to do with you."

It would have been deeply embarrassing, and Rush doesn't want Irina to see him with a space captain. He doesn't want to put the idea into Irina's head that he going to space is a possibility, somehow. That may be why. David wants to say something, but he's still waiting for a bit more information to arrive. Until then, he would prefer to stay quiet about it.

"I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse."

"Better, for sure. I'm not hiding from you, okay?"

It is so hard to do anything but nod when Rush smiles at him like that, as if all is right with the world, even though David knows it isn't true. It's Rush's natural charm, and whether he is conscious of it or not, it is doing a very good job.

"Then... where does this leave us?"

"Exactly the same as before, I reckon."

"Good." That's the right response, though David can't help but feel disappointed. But what was he hoping for? To be asked out? It's taking four days to get from his house to Rush's. His life is scheduled around his job's demands. In fact, it feels like his life has been mostly put on hold because of his arm, something he wants to keep private about — not the fact that he wears a prosthetic, but what he has to deal with in preparation for the reattachment — so this is the best outcome for him.

It's just that David's heart hasn't felt quite so tickled by someone for a very long time.

If he was a more impulsive person, perhaps.

"That's alright with you, yeah?"

David nods, and extends his left hand. "Thank you for being so forgiving."

"About what? I've forgotten already." Rush shrugs and gets up. "But I won't forget you, Dave."

David looks at how Rush grasps the proffered hand with both of his own, squeezing hard. The touch is warm, and real.

If only he was more impulsive.

"I won't forget you either."


	6. Chapter 6

Eulam is a unified body — the moon is not further split into countries — and although she orbits Celapaleis, she has her own governing structure, entirely independent of her primary planet.

Rush lives in Eulam City, the capital of the moon Eulam, which confuses most people the first time they hear about it. It is located at the very centre of the side of the moon that faces Celapaleis, and the spaceport is built there too, providing the shortest flight distance between the two bodies. It is perhaps the most popular off-planet travel destination for Celapaleians, but David doesn't stop here often, and is slightly wary of the spaceport because of what happened last time he was here. His arrival this time has been noted though, although he is travelling in a personal capacity, and as soon as he is off the Brionac he receives a formal apology and his group gets preferential treatment at the border controls.

David isn't going to complain about not needing to queue, but he does tell Rush and Irina that this is the exception rather than the rule. Being in the Intergalactic Army has its perks, but this isn't one of them.

As they near the arrivals hall, David notices Rush's footsteps slowing, starting to linger behind Irina's, and David slows down too so that they can walk together, with Torgal behind them, observing as usual.

They reach the end of the corridor, and the frosted glass doors slide open.

"Irina!" A couple shout almost immediately, arms waving in the air, beckoning Irina over. They must be her parents. She goes over to them with hurried steps and her mother holds her tight and kisses the top of her head, ignoring the railing between them.

Rush still hangs back, then takes his time to go up to his parents, and puts a hand on his hip.

"What, I don't get a hug?"

"Come here, kiddo." That prompts his father, a slim-built man with silvery, nearly white hair, to throw his arms around him. "Glad you're home safe."

"Thanks, Dad. Is everything alright at home? Are you two okay? How's The Tablet?"

"Everything's fine. There's no need to worry."

After a few moments, the parents let go of their children, and finally notice David and Torgal. Rush looks at the railing between them, and suggest they actually leave the arrivals area first.

Once they are out of other people's way, Rush makes introductions. Although David knows that marshalls tend to have children at a later age than other mitras, John and Marina are still a little older than David imagined they would be, and he supposes he is younger than they expected.

"I hope these rascals haven't caused more problems."

"Not at all," says David. "Captain Hermeien sends his apologies."

"Thank you. We've already received his message," says Marina, who repeats her words of gratitude and apology to David over and over again, so relieved she is to see her children after all this. David laughs softly.

"Please, Marina, if you keep this up I'll just get embarrassed."

"Yeah, come on, let's go home," Rush jumps in, already embarrassed the way people get when they are seen being fussed by their parents. "I've invited Dave and Torgal to eat at The Tablet. That's okay, right?"

Marina smiles. "Of course. I'd be upset if you hadn't."

With the roads clear, it is only half an hour's drive to Rush and Irina's home, which is upstairs from the restaurant. Just when they arrive, David finally receives the message he has been waiting for.

> _From: Qubine  
>  Subject: RE: Can you help me look something up?_
> 
> _I do have access to previous years' records. He was indeed a candidate for the programme, a year before you. He cited "personal circumstances" and dropped out just before coming to Celapaleis._
> 
> _There is more, but it's easier to discuss on the phone. Call me when you have time._

So what Irina told David does check out. It isn't that he doesn't believe her, but when facts are available to him, he already prefers to check first.

David leaves Torgal to show John how best to brew the Athlumian tea Rush has bought, and excuses himself out to the balcony to make an expensive interplanetary phone call with his work-issued phone. Qubine picks up after just one ring.

"Hello."

"Thanks for the help," says David.

"His scores were better than yours."

David can't help but snort. "I barely made it in; everyone's scores were better than mine."

"Let me quantify what I've just said."

The phone chimes once when Qubine sends a picture over. It is a screencapture of Rush's test results.

David gapes at it, and his jaw nearly drops.

"Well damn. I don't know if I feel envious or afraid."

"With results like that someone should have followed it up. I'm quite angry. Do you think it's too late to rip a few people's heads off?"

Well, Qubine wouldn't be Qubine if he isn't always thinking about improving the forces. There is no one, _no one_ in the world more devoted to this than he is. "Probably."

"What does he do now?"

"Working in a restaurant. Family business," David tells Qubine, who sighs faintly. "I heard it's famous, if that makes it better. And it seems important to him," he adds, recalling Rush asking after the business as soon as he was reunited with his parents.

"Hmm..."

He knows what Qubine will ask. Is Rush still interested in working in space? Most likely. But actually joining the army? The only way to find out is to ask. "I should have a word with him."

"That would be good. Try and persuade him."

David nearly makes a joke about his seduction techniques being rusty, but changes his mind. He doesn't want to, even for a laugh, lead Qubine into thinking that he might be even remotely interested in Rush. If Qubine finds out how David had acted towards Rush back on the Brionac...

"David? Are you still here?"

"Yes, just thinking about how best to approach this. I'll come up with something."

"Good. That's all for now then. Talk to you another time."

"Bye, enjoy your shore leave."

 

With customers having made bookings weeks and months prior, The Tablet has to stay open today and will be running a full service, so David and Torgal eat early.

"Sorry, hope that's okay."

"It doesn't matter in the slightest." At Rush's apology, David shakes his head. Food is already cooking, but he feels like he ought to say something anyway. "You don't have to do this, Rush."

A hand on his hip, Rush cocks his head. "I want to. Let me show-off a bit, okay? Just hope you have the appetite."

"We often eat at odd hours. Same for sleeping as well. It's normal for us."

"Oh yeah, all that travelling, right? It must do crazy things to your body clock."

"You get use to it. Eventually you'll get to a point when sleeping for a few hours is enough to completely readjust," David tells Rush. "In more urgent situations, Pagus can issue pills or a bit of gas."

Rush sputters. Loudly.

"That sounds like Pagus farts in people's faces to get them to sleep!"

That makes Torgal and John, who have been quietly talking at the other end of the room, turn and give them the most confused looks. David blinks innocently at his friend and second-in-command, until John laughs, makes a remark about young people, and resumes their conversation. David vaguely wonders what the two are talking about, since Torgal doesn't often have much to say to anyone he has just met. Maybe David can find out later.

Rush heads back downstairs to join his mother in the kitchen, and Irina keeps David company. Before she asks, he tells her that he hasn't forgotten about her request, and he will talk to Rush before he leaves tonight.

"Thanks." She blushes a little. "And sorry. I know I just dropped this on you and basically demanded your help. I'm sorry."

What a sensible and sensitive girl. "It's fine. If this ends with Rush reconsidering enlisting, then I— well, the army stands to profit from the conversation. If not, there are passenger transports that would suit him well too." says David, seeings Rush's test scores in his mind and knowing it would be an utter waste to let Rush work anywhere that is not a military ship.

He would feel guilty to push that too hard though. This is a profession that is, generally speaking, high-risk. The dangers of serving on a battleship is obvious. Patrol boats are first-responders to any situation. Even supply ships may get summoned to help resolve situations at any time. Risking one's life or limb isn't something for someone who simply wants to work in space; no matter how much potential Rush has, his heart needs to be in the right place too. David knows Qubine would agree with him on that.

The thought circles in the fore of his mind throughout the day, until David decides he'd rather get this over with, and asks Rush for a word as soon as dinner is over.

Rush suggests that they take a walk together. David agrees, and ignores Torgal's curious look.

David isn't sure why, but somehow he had the impression that Eulam is a pretty sleepy place where not too much happens, and he is clearly wrong. Perhaps the fact that Rush lives in a tourist city makes a difference as well — with cafes spreading into beautiful plazas where patrons enjoy the warm day, shops open alongside canals or even operating from boats on the canals, musicians and artists busking at street corners, the area is both lively and relaxing at the same time. There is plenty of modern technology but it is all subtly placed, with great respect to the city's original design.

"I've stopped at the spaceport here quite a few times before, but this is the first time I've actually come any further in. Next time I should try to spend more than a day here."

Listening to David's sentiment, Rush arches an eyebrow. "Really? You're gonna be here for a long time if you're even here for a day."

David laughs. Of course. Eulam is tidal locked to her primary planet Celapaleis, so a "day", from sunrise to sunrise, lasts weeks.

"Shall we find somewhere to sit down? How about coffee?"

That prompts Rush to make a sharp turn, leading the way into another plaza. He picks a cafe that has a small amount of outside seating.

"Oh yeah, Irina and I went into a place called Warrior's Honor when we were in Castle. There's someone called Guy there who said he knows you," says Rush as they sit down.

"Ah. Guy." Thoughts of the bartender bring a smile to David's face. "How's he?"

"He said he misses you, and you need to visit more."

"I should." David had started avoiding Warrior's Honor because it was a regular haunt of his ex-partners', but there is little to no chance of running into them now, since they've moved to another city, the last he heard.

They've moved, first out of David's house and then to another city, and they've got married with that other man. There was a phone call that David missed because he was working, and then an email. An invitation to the wedding. They still cared about him, although they understood if he could not forgive them. David replied, thanked them for the invitation, and said he had work commitments so he wouldn't be able to make it.

It wasn't about forgiveness.

David feels a nudge; a waitress has come over to take their orders. He asks for a coffee. After the waitress leaves, Rush peers at him.

"Are you alright? You look like something's bothering you."

"Not at all," says David, reining back his thoughts. "How long can you stay out for? Or do you not need to work today?"

"Not today, Mum's letting me off." Rush folds his arms on the round, wooden table and leans forward a little. "So, there's something you want to talk about? I'm a bit worried."

"Why?"

"Well this morning on the ship you wanted to talk too." Rush is referring to David's apology for trying to kiss him. And that was awkward, Rush doesn't say but David hears it anyway. "So what's it this time? Bad feedback on the food?"

As if that is at all possible. Marina and Rush have produced a three-course meal so exquisite David wonders if food will just never be the same again. Even thinking about it now, he can smell the herbs and taste the tender meat and succulent vegetables. He never knew flavours can work like that. And the pudding — David has never been big on desserts but, oh, that pudding. Even Torgal made pleased noises all through the meal.

"When I said I have never eaten such incredible food in my life, I wasn't exaggerating. Did you not see me making a booking for my next visit?" David even optimistically reserved a table for two, though he has no idea who to invite yet. "It's a bit of a trip but it's worth it."

Rush grins. "Thanks, I'll tell Mum that."

"Give yourself some credit too, Rush."

"Ha, I only do the prep and make small bits. I'm not the chef."

David wonders if this is just a particular case or if Rush is often so dismissive about his own accomplishments. Or maybe he's simply proud of his mother, which is fair enough.

"Then, what do you see yourself doing in the future? Would you become a chef? Or do something else?"

Rush pulls back a bit. "Whoa, where did that come from?"

Their drinks arrive, a black coffee for David and one with milk for Rush, who points at the sugar pot, telling David to try the black sugar.

David obliges and drops a black cube into his drink. "I learned that you entered the selection process for the military's elite programme some years ago."

Rush briefly freezes, then adds sugar to his coffee too. "You know what? I've forgotten about that."

"You dropped out because of Irina," David continues, and adds, when Rush starts to look defensive, "she told me. She knows you've lied to her about it."

"Ah, crap." That is all Rush says once that sinks in. He picks up a teaspoon and stirs his coffee.

"Rush—"

"So what's she asked you to do? Sorry man, she shouldn't have bothered you, I'll tell her off when I get home."

"Rush, is your dream still to work in space?" David ignores that and tries to catch Rush's gaze, but Rush stares down at the table instead. "The option is still available. It can be an ambition, not a dream."

Rush considers this. "Thanks. Really. But I don't think that's gonna work."

"Irina tells me the restaurant is now financially stable and you shouldn't need to worry about that anymore. Your family wants you to start thinking about what you want for yourself." It may take a bit of time but David hopes he can give Rush some food for thought. "Although the empire is not at war, working in the army would be still dangerous, of course. But it would also be rewarding, and the entry level salary is quite acceptable. There are also commercial ventures you can join. But with test scores like yours, you should get far if you joined the army."

It is clear that Rush doesn't know how to react. "Thanks but... that was a long time ago..."

David can't argue with that fact. Staying quiet for a while to let Rush think, he tries his coffee. It has a nutty sweetness to it from the sugar, and he can't decide if he likes it or not, so he drinks more of it slowly.

"So... what do you think?"

It doesn't look like Rush is asking about the coffee. "I would guess you can start working on commercial flights even ten, twenty years later. But if it's the army you're considering, then the sooner the better." David sets down his cup. "Frankly, I don't know you well enough to say what's best for you."

"You'd make a really bad army recruitment officer." Rush cracks a wry smile.

"It's just as well that I'm not one." David smiles back. "I suspect you know a lot about the career paths and the processes already. Not much has changed over the years, but if you have questions I can try to answer them."

He waits. It looks like there is something Rush wants to say, or ask, but he is keeping it back. Maybe he doesn't want to sound too keen? Or he doesn't want to say he'd changed his mind about the army since a long time ago. In which case, at least David can turn around to Qubine and tell him he's tried.

"Give me your phone."

Rush raises his eyebrows, but pulls out the device and hands it over anyway. David puts in his contact details. "Get in touch if you need anything."

"Cool, thanks." Rush takes a quick glance at the screen and pockets the phone again, not offering to do the same in return. Not that David doesn't know where he lives now or have the means to find out how to contact him. Still, he wonders if it's because of what happened on the Brionac. "It's just, you know... it's all pretty surreal."

"What is?"

"Everything." Rush shrugs his shoulders. "Meeting you and the rest of the crew, going on a roundtrip to Elysion, my future suddenly opening up. It's a lot to take in."

"That's true," says David. "One thing I will recommend is discussing with your family, clear any doubt, address any concern. Not because you can't make your own decision as an adult, but I suspect you'll feel better having talked to them."

He would hate to see Rush make the same mistake he did.

"Yeah. Thanks, Dave. You've really gone out of your way for me. _Way_ out of your way." Rush's expression turns softer, his gaze warm. "I'll pay you back. Somehow."

Is Rush implying that they'll stay in touch? "I thought we'd established that you don't owe me anything once I've stayed for dinner." Those eyes. That smile. No, not again. Just what is it about Rush that is so... enchanting?

But David, you don't even want a relationship. Not right now, and perhaps not for a long time. When you told Arianne you're enjoying bachelorhood, you weren't just trying to dismiss the issue. You don't want Rush, and clearly he doesn't like you that way.

But... it is okay to just appreciate beauty when one sees it, yes?

"I guess we did agree on that." Rush scratches the corner of his lips with a finger. "It just doesn't... feel right."

"There's nothing I can do except to tell you not to feel that way. I'm on leave, yes, but I don't have much to do, so you haven't wasted my time."

Apparently that isn't enough, since rather than relief Rush's face just turns suspicious instead. He probably isn't aware of it himself though; David has become very good at reading faces over the years in the army. That was one of the unspoken requirements as a captain of the Valeria Heart. Without it, he would have died several times.

He sieves through the memories of their previous conversations and his own observations, and comes to a conclusion. No wonder Rush is being quite so cagey... no, careful.

"You are wondering what's in it for me," David says, phrasing it as a fact rather than a question. Still, Rush visibly pulls back.

"No! It's not like that!" he says hastily, as if he hadn't once implied that David was using him for information on Eulam for potential work purposes.

"It's fine." David shakes his head, dismissive. Well, what should he say? Maybe he can be honest, because it's not something he needs to hide. "I do want to get on Captain Hermeien's good side. Seeing you home safely helps me with that. And it's not just Irina who asked me to speak to you — a friend's become interested in you after looking at your test scores."

"Oh, um... who? Someone else from the military?"

"Someone I owe a lot to." David doesn't bother answering that in detail. "Captain of the Umbermarici" would be too intimidating or it might make Rush boastful. "Also, it is true that I have nothing to do."

It's harder to say those words than David would like to admit. For most officers on their leave, they would much prefer to be with those they can't regularly see at work. In David's case, that consists only of his family; he doesn't have many friends planet-side — not anymore. Sometimes he makes fun of Qubine becoming restless when he's on leave, but in truth Qubine has a far better social life on the ground than he does. And unlike Torgal, David doesn't have any hobby or interest that can keep him entertained for days on end.

Rush still looks suspicious, but in a more amused way. "Yeah, right. Bollocks to that."

David just shrugs. Things happened, and he lost his arm, his lovers, his friends. He doesn't need to explain or justify that to anyone.

"Do you work too hard or something?"

"No." A shake of the head. "But... it's also not because I often climb on top of people and try to kiss them, just so you know. That was an isolated incident."

It's strange and embarrassing to talk about that, but David hopes that the fact he has done it means it can quite quickly become just a small, funny thing that had happened.

It is one honest explanation followed by a refusal to further divulge, but it seems like it's enough to satisfy Rush, who holds out his hand.

"Phone."

David cannot describe the feeling as he watches Rush put down his contact details. It's relief, perhaps. And a bit of giddiness. But mostly relief, that his friendship is still worth something to someone.

What is he thinking. Of course he is worthwhile. His life now is how he chose for it to be, and those were the right decisions. Difficult, but right, and he's happy with that, and he's a good person who just needs to start putting his life back together again.

"To be honest I can't afford to call you, but I've got unlimited bandwidth though so we can chat if you like."

"Thank you."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. You were right to doubt; overtrustfulness is a vice, not a virtue," David says with a hint of genuine appreciation, "particularly for an army officer."

For that, he gets an "I see what you did there" look. Bringing the coffee to his lips, he casually looks away. Rush snickers.

"We'll see, Dave. We'll see."

 

Just before they leave the cafe, Rush takes another black sugar cube from the little bowl and sucks on it. David tastes the nutty sweetness still lingering in his mouth, and decides that he likes it, after all.


	7. Chapter 7

"Hey, Charlotte."

Charlotte glances up from her screen just when Rush goes to stand beside her. She looks impeccable, like she always does. Today her dark cinnamon hair is plaited down the sides and twisted into some kind of elaborate bun at the back. Her blouse looks pristine, and her trousers too, as if she just got them back from the drycleaners. And the white blouse works really well against her dark skin. Rush wonders if David would look good in white too.

Er, where did that come from?

"Rush. Good to see you back. How was your holiday?"

"It was fun!" Looks like Charlotte's going through the reservations and as usual, the restaurant is fully booked for the next three weeks. Rush touches the next tab. Good, the ingredients orders are on track for those reservations. So many races, so many dietary requirements. Luckily they have Charlotte for front of house and Rush's father managing the orders. The Tablet has a great team. "Sorry to have suddenly gone off like that. Everyone managed okay, right?"

"It was fine. Marina brought in another new trainee chef. Have you met him yet?"

"No, but I'm supposed to be teaching him today."

"He's a nice mitra boy."

It doesn't surprise Rush that it's another mitra; their kitchen isn't equipped for the other races. "Not like Jager then," he comments, having seen the man he just mentioned coming in out of the corner of his eyes. As expected, Jager gives him a hard, solid flick on the back of his head.

"Ow!"

"Watch your mouth, kid."

"If you really want me to call you a nice boy I can try."

Jager responds with a half-hearted glare and heads for the kitchen.

Jager's a funny one. To be honest, Rush was a bit scared of him at first: rough voice, big muscles, tattoos on his face and the shaved sides of his head. And oh, he's an ex-convict. But he turned out to be alright. Pretty diligent, picks up new skills quite well, and hasn't missed a day of work in the year he's been employed. He still talks tough but Rush doesn't worry anymore. Like, if Jager and Irina are in a room together he won't think that's a problem, especially since he found out Jager was jailed for practically pulverising someone because of some nasty thing they did to his family. Rush can understand that; if Irina's kidnappers weren't killed during her rescue he probably would've tried something.

Ten minutes later, the new trainee shows up, and Rush's mother comes downstairs to check that everything is okay.

Taking one look at the new kid, a boy called Rhagoh who's probably the same age as Irina, Rush narrows his eyes at his mother and lowers his voice.

"Really Mum?"

"What is it?"

"I'm seeing a trend." Charlotte, Jager, and now Rhagoh. They are all dark-skinned. His mother has a type. "You know there are recruitment laws, right?"

"It's just a coincidence," says Marina with an innocent face. "By the way, about your new captain friend... is that his natural skintone or is it a tan?"

Oh. My. God. "MUM. NO."

"I was only joking—"

"I DON'T CARE. Go back upstairs. Enjoy your day off."

Marina hides a laugh behind the back of her hand and does as she is urged, but not before telling her son that Rhagoh has a twin who might also join the team.

Rush groans, resists the urge to bury his face in his hands, and gets to work.

 

Irina was out with friends, so Rush doesn't see her until training is over, prep is done, and dinner service is finished. It's been nearly a twelve-hour-day, and all he wants to do now is shower and then hit the bed.

That time in the gym on the Valeria Heart comes to mind. Compared with David, he's pretty unfit. But that sort of thing can be worked on if he does become a soldier... and it's not like he's very unhealthy or anything, he generally eats well and does a lot of heavy lifting at work...

"...sh. Rush!"

Something lands on and slides off Rush's face and he jerks in surprise, nearly falling off the sofa he's lying on. As he searches for and picks up the offending projectile — a packet of yoghurt-coated nuts, one of his favourites — Irina looms over and frowns at him from where she is standing behind the furniture. She looks a bit done-up today, wearing eyeliner and earrings and stuff. Rush suspects she's been on a date. With whom, though, he has no clue.

"Well, someone's mind on Athlum rather than Eulam, I say."

Not funny. "I'm beat! I've was in the kitchen for literally half a day!"

Irina wrinkles her nose. "I can tell. You need a shower."

"I'm on my way. Just... making a pit stop." Rush rips open his snack packet and makes a start on it. "Refuelling."

She rolls her eyes, but takes a peanut when Rush offers one.

"So..."

"Hmm?"

"Captain David talked to you, right? About going to space?"

Rush stops, and gets up, heading for his room.

He doesn't want to talk about that right now. Not until he's had the time to do some research and thinking.

"Rush?"

"Later." He shakes the packet in his hand. "Thanks for these."

 

The thing is, it's not truly _space_ that he wants to go to. It is beautiful, sure, but he would always be confined to a ship, staring out windows. And yes he would love it anyway. But what he loves even more is what would happen after being on a ship. Ending up some place new. He loves Eulam, but the world is huge and he wants to see more of it.

But even that's not really it. When those soldiers rescued Irina from her kidnappers and escorted her back home, they were doing exactly what Rush wanted to do with his life: helping people. Maybe even saving lives. Being in the army on a spaceship could have ticked all those boxes. It was just ironic that when he shook hands with those soldiers he had already given up on that dream.

David said it can be an ambition rather than just a dream.

Honestly, Rush doesn't know what to make of David. He seemed pretty popular on the Valeria Heart, but apparently he has no friends outside of work. He was so, so nice, and so helpful, and never breathed a word of frustration or complaint over the trouble Rush and Irina had caused. He was very honest, up to a point, then he suddenly just clammed up. And on the Brionac he—

No, Rush said he'd forget that. Not that he really can, but he'll try not to judge him for it. And seriously, it wasn't as if Rush himself wasn't asking for it. And it wasn't like a really bad thing. Poor timing, sure, but other than that it wasn't as if things like that don't ever happen? Sometimes the atmosphere's right and you click with someone and you're all over each other before you even realise. What does make Rush feel bad, in fact, is how much it clearly bothered David. It was really sweet, but also worrying that he worried about it so much, like it was morally wrong. Maybe it's an Athlumian thing?

Anyway.

Yes David is super hot and attractive in a whole load of ways and damn, if the opportunity was there and Irina wasn't, then Rush's body would totally say yes. But his heart says no. He doesn't _like_ like David much. As soon as he found out David was a xiphosian, the attraction pretty much evaporated.

Friends, though. He definitely wants to be friends with David.

David made a bit of a fuss over Rush's scores from when he applied for the elite programme. Rush knows what his results were but not how they compared with other people's, so he'll have to take David's words for it, especially since he went out of his way to say all that.

Ah, man. Irina knows. Rush doesn't want her to feel guilty about something that wasn't her fault at all. Plus he really cares about The Tablet so it's not as if he's been forced against his will to work there.

He should look things up and give this a good think.

Showered and ready for bed, he picks up his computer, gets into bed, and brings up the Intergalactic Army's recruitment website. After a moment's thought, he reaches for his phone and sends a message to David.

**Rush:** Testing...

It is late and David is flying, so he isn't expecting a reply any time soon, but one arrives very quickly.

**David:** Too used to being deliberately given the wrong number?

**Rush:**

**David:** I see I'm facing one whose emoticon game is strong.

Rush smirks, takes a photo of his screen and sends it over.

**Rush:** Doing my research.

**David:** I'm quietly excited.

**Rush:** No promises though.

**David:** I'm quietly excited, cautiously optimistic and placing no pressure on you.

Smooth. And actually a very kind response.

**Rush:** Any reason you'd advise /against/ the job?

It takes a few moments for David to reply.

**David:** Depending on the ship you're assigned to: danger levels, strict discipline demands, not being home for months on end.  
**David:** Not ship-dependent: civilians' expectations and assumptions, awareness that you'll always represent the army whether you're on duty or not, tough training.

**Rush:** That's far more honest than I expected.

**David:** The Heart's a comfortable ship, I wouldn't want you to get the impression that what you saw was the norm.

Yes, life on the Valeria Heart looked really cushy. Not saying the crew isn't doing an important job, but it does make Rush wonder how David managed to land such a nice gig. And he's super young for a captain too. Of course, the first thought — and this is a joke — is "he sucked a lot of dick", but really it's probably to do with connections; David seems like the well-connected sort.

**Rush:** OK, any reason you'd recommend it, then?

**David:** Huge range of career options. Good pay, benefits and pension, job security, recognition. A lot of personal satisfaction. Getting to meet some truly great people.  
**David:** I forgot to say earlier that you could also encounter some terrible things.

**Rush:** I know that.

**David:** No, you don't.

Rush pauses, thinks, and types again. No, he doesn't really know anything.

**Rush:** Sorry.

**David:** It's fine. But this is not for the faint-hearted, or anyone who can get too deeply upset. It is not just death that you'd have to deal with.

**Rush:** Understood.  
**Rush:** Right gonna do some reading. Say hi to turgid for me.  
**Rush:** I MEAN TURNIP  
**Rush:** T O R G A L OMG AUTOCORRECT

**David:** Don't worry, I will send your regards to the turgid turnip.

**Rush:**   
**Rush:** Thanks btw.

 **David** :

 

Back in Athlum, David sees his family a few more times. Some of Arianne's newer paintings will form part of an exhibition which he won't be able to go to, so he makes sure he sees them before he has to fly again, even though his mother's works often make him uncomfortable. She is primarily a portrait artist, an excellent one, although David's knowledge of art is so poor that he doesn't even know what the style is called. Her works are breathtaking, with broad brushstrokes that somehow bring out the most subtle of details. But they can also be haunting.

In the first few years after David's father left and he joined the army, Arianne worked furiously and produced a series of self portraits. They had been stashed away, and David only found them by accident a few years ago. The monstrous, grotesque images burned into his brain. Artistically-speaking they are probably her best works, but David understands why they don't see the light of day.

Arianne sees the truth in people. Their weaknesses and strengths, their trials and tribulations. And she has the ability to depict them on canvas. This is as fascinating as it is unsettling.

The paintings that are going to be exhibited soon are a series on journalists, those who have covered stories of war. David actually recognises two of them as the cameraperson and reporter permitted onboard the Umbermarici during the battle at the outer solar system two and a half years ago. It's beyond strange to see their faces like this, exposed by Arianne's brushstrokes, immortalised as art.

Glenys is depicted as an ancient warrior, her armour scruffed and and her face stained with blood. Her determination to prove herself, to perform her duty no matter what, so clear in her sharp cheekbones and hard jawline. Gaou is a hunter, dressed in the skins of his kills, and wields only one spear. His pride, his inclination to work as a lonewolf seems to be etched between his brows.

"I know them," David utters. "You've captured them so well."

"They asked after you during the sittings."

"They did?"

"I said you're fine, and you've been promoted. They were very happy about that."

That makes David smile. Gaou looking happy? He'd believe it if he saw it. He thinks he could have been friends with these two if they weren't journalists. While work does not forbid such a relationship, it is frowned upon, with good reason. David has to be careful with his friendships. Not that there are many, but that actually makes life simpler.

"How come I haven't inherited any of this?" he jokes, gesturing around him. "My stick figure art is fairly accomplished but..."

"And you don't see me flying a ship into war," says Arianne. "David... can I ask you for a favour?"

David turns to his mother. It's unusual for her to speak like that, and something in her voice makes him think this is going to be important for her.

"What is it?" He tips his head gently to one side.

"Would you let me paint your portrait?"

His first reaction is no.

Then he pauses, forces himself to think through the heartbeat suddenly pounding in his ears, and the answer is still no.

He is afraid of what she may find under his skin.

But he can tell this means a lot to her. And she may already have waited a long time before finally asking.

"I... this would need to be sanctioned. The—"

"It wouldn't be displayed or sold. The army wouldn't need to know," says Arianne, whose face turns a little poignant. "But I can tell you're not comfortable with the idea. So let's forget it."

"Mother—"

"It's okay."

"No, it's fine. I just..." David doesn't feel that he should, or can, turn down this request. Art isn't just her trade, but also her joy and her salvation. If he can be a part of that, then it is his duty as her son to do so. "If you don't make me see the finished work, then I'm absolutely fine with this."

Arianne's gaze softens further.

"Thank you, David."


	8. Chapter 8

The Umbermarici is a front line battleship, command centre, garrison, and carrier for numerous smaller crafts. She is one of the larger ships of the Intergalactic Army, with around 1000 people onboard at a time. At times of war, she often leads the assault and has an enviable victory record. During peacetime, she patrols the most problematic areas of the solar system to deal with issues such as piracy and trafficking. She also acts as one of the major training grounds, turning fresh graduates into seasoned persons of their fields, be it piloting, spatial combat, direct combat, engineering, medical support or others.

Presiding over this great mobile fortress is a gefyrian man, of Celapaleis, rather than Undelwalt where the largest population of gefyrians live. That is not strange by any measure, however; xiphosians such as David have originated from Athlum but they can now be found all over the solar system, for example. There was once a massive decline to their population due to atmospheric changes, which led to co-parenting for the purpose of survival, and eventually gave birth to their polyamorous tradition, but that was long before space travel became widespread. The xiphosian population is now considered to be stable and fortunately, so is Athlum's atmosphere.

In contrast, the marshalls are far smaller in population in comparison to all other mitra species due to the nature of their reproduction biology and the hunting for their bioluminescent skin, the underground trading of which was once prolific. As a result, the marshalls have been granted special protected status by the Empire.

It is believed that the bioluminescence was used by the marshalls in prehistoric times as a survival tool to alert each other of the presence of wild animals, some of which are blind or have weak eyesight on their birth moon Eulam, a phenomenon which has been observed on a number of tidal locked bodies.

Tidal locking, also known as gravitational locking, is when one side of an astronomical body always faces another due to the effect of a gravitational gradient. For astronomical bodies tidal locked to stars, one easily observable result is that one side of the body is in perpetual starlight and another that is in perpetual darkness. If a body is tidal locked to a planet, then...

Rush puts his phone down.

That was all pretty basic, really, they literally taught much of it in school in galactic biology and geography lessons, but it doesn't hurt to refresh his memory. He better stop now, though; he could link-hop in the encyclopedia forever but there are other things he's supposed to do. He doesn't know what they are yet but there are always things he needs to do. Like making sure the kitchen's clean. The knives probably need sharpening. Check that Rhagoh has put all the deliveries away right; that gomei wing is really delicate. And he's pretty sure Irina said she wanted something or other.

Oh, that's right, Irina said she's got something for him when she comes back from lectures. But never mind that, better go downstairs and take a look. He's got all these things to do, there's no time to think about space.

The gomei wing is laid out on a shallow tray on the middle shelf of the fridge, soaked in a liquid.

"Is that right?" Rhagoh asks when he notices Rush. "I think you told me to put it there and cover it with apple vinegar?"

"Yeah, it's perfect," Rush says, and Rhagoh starts going over the rest of the day's delivery and showing Rush what he's done with it all. By the end, Rush feels like he needs to apologise.

"Sorry, it's not like I don't trust you."

"No no, I feel better if you've taken a look... I get worried otherwise... in case I remembered things wrong..."

It's a typical Rhagoh response. Sometimes Rush wonders just what had happened to him that gave him such a confidence issue.

Everything seems fine in the kitchen, so Rush goes to the office and gets on the bookkeeping system next. His father really struggles with this; he just isn't a numbers guy. To Rush actually it isn't that complicated at all, but since he's already working in the kitchen, it'd be better to let his father handle this. It's a pride thing. So Rush just takes a look every now and then and makes sure the numbers do add up. It'll be good when Irina graduates and takes over, then their father can focus on ordering ingredients. He's really good at making friends with the producers and getting the best ingredients into the kitchen. God knows how many other restaurants he'd have to fight with to get those gomei wings otherwise.

"Rush."

Rush clicks a button, the screen fades and he sees his mother at the doorway. "Yeah?"

Marina creases her brows at him. "Leave that alone. It's all right."

"I'm just—"

"I saw you in the kitchen as well. You're fretting. What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"You've been like this for days." She sighs at him. "Why don't you play a video game? Or take a walk, get out of the house for a bit?"

"Service is about to start."

"Jager and Rhagoh are both here today. We can manage. Go, at this rate you'll just cut yourself in the kitchen."

"Wow, harsh!"

He says that, but he does get up and does as he's told, since his mother is probably right.

There are parks that spans vasts amounts of land but they're a bit far away, so Rush ends up in the gym, on a treadmill, running in a frenzy.

This is all David's fault. Even on his way here, he passed the cafe he and David sat in a while ago, and he could literally hear David's voice, in that gorgeous accent of his, saying that the options are still open, the dream isn't over for Rush.

But he can't leave. He can't do that. If he left The Tablet he'd be dropping the weight on everyone's shoulders, his mother's especially. And although she has some help in the kitchen now and Irina's going to start working soon, he knows they want him to be home. He'd promised to help make the restaurant a great success.

He knows they'd still be proud of him. Being in the army is a respectable career, and the pay is good. It has its dangers but modern medicine means fatality numbers are the lowest they have ever been, and major injuries are taken care of in a flash, so they shouldn't have to worry. And apparently he has potential. If he really worked at it he believes he could get somewhere. He would get to meet a lot of people, and see the world.

It'd be challenging. There'd be a lot of hard work. He'd miss home. But he just—

He just really—

He picks up his things and dashes home.

He gets back just after the first seating have been served dessert. His family are in the little office, discussing something and he runs straight in, skidding to a stop, panting heavily. He ought to have taken his shoes off at the door, his t-shirt is plastered to him with sweat and he really needs a shower, but everyone's here so he only needs to say things once, hopefully.

"Son? Are you okay?"

Doubled over, his hands on his knees, Rush takes a few more breaths, then pulls himself to stand up straight. Everyone's staring at him, confused and a bit worried.

"I — I want to—"

He stops. He can't get the words out.

His father takes a step forward. "What is it, kiddo?"

Rush swallows hard, wipes the sweat from his face, and tries again. What he wants to do is going to take a lot of guts. If he hasn't even got enough of it to just say the words, then what hope has he got?

"I want to join the army!"

There is a kind of long, pregnant pause, but no reactions of shock, for some reason. Then Irina steps forward and, with a sly smile, gives him an envelope.

"Well, I was going to use this as a motivational thing, but I guess you can still have it."

It's a card. The bright yellow background and glittering purple letters assault his eyes when Rush takes it out:

_Sorry you're leaving!_

 

"How is McGrady and his crew?"

"Fine, as far as I know. I'll hear from them soon I'm sure. Now let me take a look at that."

David sits down to make it easier for Pagus to examine the wound. There is no bleeding, but the wound has been sealed anyway using the mini first aid tool they always carry on the field. The synthetic protein isn't going to last long before it disintegrates though.

"Which gun was it?"

"A caduceus, I think. It looked like one."

"An ordinary caduceus wouldn't have gone right through." First things first: David is given an injection for the pain and in case there is any infection. "An auld one, on the other hand..."

Pagus holds his scanner and runs it over David's side, just an inch over the wound. It makes a string of musical noises that David is certain Pagus has customised himself, then the medic reads the output, hmms and ahhs at himself, and goes over to the cupboard marked "mitra".

"Don't worry Captain, I'll have you fixed in no time."

David doesn't doubt that. Injury doesn't always happen but he has served on a battleship for enough years, so he's been hurt and seen people get hurt enough times to be very familiar with it all now. And that's why he waited until everyone else have been seen to first; he has no need to worry about permanent damage. That and it is his responsibility as the captain to ensure the safety of his crew.

"Thanks, Pagus."

"It was quite a scuffle, then?"

David nods. "I'm glad we were nearby and got the call for back up. The patrol boat wouldn't have been able to handle that alone."

"From what Blocter said, they'd have a problem just with cell space!"

"Haha, that also. There's another patrol on its way to pick up the rest. Once that's done we're heading to Koenigsdorf."

"Straight to Koenigsdorf?"

"It turns out a few of the captured are on the wanted list."

"What a catch!" A blood sample, three injections, a bit of needlework, a light beam, and another scan later, Pagus takes a step back. "Finished. Please take a rest, and come back here in twelve hours' time."

David tries to stand. Yes, that feels much better, and he's now less woozy. "Thanks again."

Pagus tips his head back to look up at David, and narrows his eyes in a knowing manner. "I mean it, Captain. You've had a hole burned through your side and nearly lost a kidney. Eat something, then stay in your cabin."

Best respect the professional opinion of his elders and betters. David tries to adjust his clothes, but it doesn't seem possible to hide the hole in the fabric. "I must talk to the other ships first, but I'll make it brief."

"That's a good boy." Finally, Pagus smiles. "Do try to avoid injury. You know there's a limit to how much anaesthetic you can have in a year."

Despite David's promise, it takes quite some time for another boat, led by a qsiti called Oakes, to arrive and transfer some criminals from Valeria Heart's overcrowded cells over. After the three vessels agree on all the arrangements, they take off and set their destination to the maximum security prison, Koenigsdorf.

Then, urged and pushed and threatened by the others on the bridge, David returns to his cabin, takes off his prosthetic arm and falls into bed.

Then he notices the flashing blue light on his phone, and reaches for it. A message from Rush, sent several hours ago.

**R:** I'm going to enlist!

They haven't talked since last time Rush asked about the pros and cons of life in the army, and David has been quite busy since then. He hasn't had the time to think much about many things, including this new friend, for which he's thankful. Now he thinks again about the time he tried to kiss him, and he doesn't feel that mortified anymore.

Tired and not knowing what to reply with, David looks through the emoji list in search of inspiration.

 **D:**

Then he thinks about it again, and a little empathetic surge of excitement tickles him. Rush must be ecstatic right now. Or half a day ago when he sent that message.

David turns over to get his arm, plugs it back into the socket on his stump, switches it on and gets typing.

**D:** Congratulations. Very happy for you.

**R:** !!!  
**R:** Thanks! I'm not enlisting right away tho, gonna spend a few months to train up the staff here first, until it's recruitment period again.

**D:** Sounds very sensible. Your family is happy too?

**R:** Yeah, they've been waiting for me to get my act together. Thanks for giving me that push, this'd never happen otherwise.

**D:** You should thank Irina. Also you might not think the same way once you're in training.

**R:** Maybe. BUT I'M SO EXCITED RIGHT NOWWWWWWWWW

David laughs at the screen and by doing so, learns that the anaesthetic is already fading and his side aches like he's been punched by a burly yama.

**R:** Sorry haha I just needed to scream at someone, anyway how're you doing?

**D:** Tired. I've just finished work; it's been a long day.

**R:** Difficult passenger?

David thinks about the twenty people he has locked up on the Heart right now.

**D:** You could say that. We won't have them for too long at least.

**R:** Where are you going this time?

**D:** Sorry, I can't tell you.

**R:** ofc. Sorry. Take it easy if you can, yeah? And if you can't, take care.

It's surprisingly warming to see a message like that.

**D:** I will. Thank you.

**R:** So when are you off work next? Got any plans? again?

 **D:** If you want to try so much I'm sure Irina can help?  
**D:** Next shore leave is in three weeks, for ten days.

**R:** No thanks don't think it'll suit my skintone.  
**R:** Is that all??

**D:** What do you mean? It's quite generous.

**R:** Yeah if you were working 8-hr-days and going home everyday, but you aren't.

**D:** You best rethink if you really want to enlist then.

**R:**   
**R:** You aren't gonna scare me off~ who knows, one day I might end up on your ~

**D:** Damn! Go somewhere else!

**R:** thx ilu2

David imagines Rush cringing as soon as he sent that.

**D:** That's lovely. But if you don't mind I'm going to sleep now.

**R:** ofc man. G'night!

**D:** Congrats again. :)

**R:** :)

 

Rush stares at the screen of his phone.

That was okay, right? David said he has to go but he did say before that he's had a hard day, it can't be because Rush said something funny. He says _ilu_ to all his friends, and he and David are cool, really cool. David's his mate so he'll talk to him like one.

Yes, it's okay. Totally okay. No problem at all! And he's going to space!

YES!


	9. Chapter 9

The phone in his pocket vibrates. David checks it, smiles, replies to the message, then puts it away again.

"Your turn, Captain."

He takes a look at the tile Torgal has played, and checks his own. Hmm, he doesn't want a brynhildr. In fact he can get rid of one of his own now that he knows nobody wants it.

His phone goes off again. This time it's a picture, one that makes David laugh before he can help himself. Sitting opposite him, Blocter arches a fleshy eyebrow.

"The Young Captain's popular."

"He's been doing that for some time," Emma contributes as she mulls over her hand.

"Yeah? Oooh have you met someone nice?"

"It's just Rush. Do you remember him?" David turns his phone over to show everyone the photo he just received: a turnip with a cartoon sovani face carved into it that is unmistakably Torgal.

"What the—" The cafeteria erupts, with Torgal trying his best not to bury his face in a hand. David seizes the moment, takes a photo of the reaction and sends it back.

**D:** Look what you've wrought.

**R:** Oh is it Four Winds time? Who's winning?

**D:** We just started.

Wheezing, Blocter rearranges the tiles he has knocked over, thick fingers working with surprising dexterity. "Oh Rush! How is he and his little sister?"

"They seem fine," says David simply. He knows what Rush's had for breakfast, for how long he'll be working today, what he thinks of the latest Omnistrike album — absolutely mint, David agrees — and what he's getting Irina for her birthday since David was the one who suggested it. But of course he won't tell people any of that. "It'll be Irina's birthday soon. We can send her a card."

"Let's do that!"

The phone goes off again.

**R:** Well I know who's NOT gonna win. You absolutely suck at it!

**D:** I suck at many things. Somehow I still get by. Maybe sucking is a skill in itself and I'm just very good at it.

**R:** Ooooooo so many things I could say but I'm not going to.

Just as David considers his reply to that, he feels a tiny vibration in his right arm, at the socket. What an oversight. He flips his tiles to face down and slides off his seat.

"I'll be right back. My arm's running out of power." He hurries his way out, and hears Blocter calling behind him.

"Oi! You leave the table, your tiles are fair game!"

"Don't bully a disabled man!" he shouts back.

"You ran out of battery _texting_!"

"Torgal," it's Emma's turn, her voice raised for David's benefit no doubt, "is there any rule against sexting while in flight?"

"What is 'sexting'?"

David leaves the cafeteria as fast as he can.

When he gets back, his tiles seem to have stayed untouched, and it's his turn again. He picks a tile from the stack. A flauros. That can go with his fenris combo. He lets go of a butterfly tile, and Pagus reaches for it.

"I've been searching for this!" He puts the tile into his hand with glee. "So, Captain, you've been in contact with Rush a lot?"

"I wouldn't say 'a lot'," says David, suddenly aware that their chat thread has grown to about three thousand messages long within about a week. "We talk sometimes."

"Mmm hmm."

"Mmm hmm?" David repeats, suspicious.

"Oh, I just think it's very nice that you two get on so well." Pagus doesn't even bother veiling the curiosity in his voice. "You've been single for a while now, haven't you..."

Just as he thought. "I have. And it's wonderful."

The others are listening and carefully not saying a thing, even Blocter. Pagus coughs and leaves the topic alone. David doesn't know how much they know about how his previous relationship ended — he never talked about it but someone will always find out something, somehow — but whatever the case, he doesn't need anyone making recommendations for or assumptions about him. Honestly, if they saw how he talks to Qubine sometimes, would they start thinking that he and Qubine were dating?

Rush is just very easy, very relaxing to talk to, and he is a lot of fun. If this is "friendzone" then friendzone is a marvellous place.

 **D:** I speak only the truth. Everyone says hi by the way.

**R:** And hi back! Have fun losing I gotta work.

**D:** Don't waste turnips even if they're turgid.

**R:**

 

"What in the galaxy is this?"

Guy winks. "Something experimental."

It looks experimental, definitely. David has watched the bartender make this cocktail, which involves the meticulous and slow pouring of nine alcohols in a certain order, resulting in distinct layers of colour in a glass.

"So how do I drink this?"

"Down it in one."

"You're joking," says David, contemplating the cocktail with equal measures of fascination and horror. "You do know that killing the customer is not the best way to make money, yes?"

Guy folds his arms on the bar and leans forward. It's a working day so Warrior's Honor isn't all that busy and David hoarding one of the bartender's attention doesn't create a problem.

"I know what your tolerance is. Trust me, darling," he says. "And you owe me, for not swinging by for so long."

Well then.

David picks up the drink, closes his eyes and tosses it back. Then he nearly slams the glass down, but just manages to gently lower it.

"Nice, yes?"

David doesn't reply right away. The burn down his throat is expected, but it isn't harsh at all. If he has to describe it, it is like getting into a hot bath — the water always feels scorching when he first steps in, but by the time he sinks the rest of his body into it, the heat is just perfect.

And yes, it is strong, and he's already feeling a little heady just moments later, and he's glad he's sitting down.

"Yes. Nice." He especially likes the aftertaste, mildly sweet and nutty. It reminds him of a certain day, on a certain moon.

"Your car has home navigation, hmm? Then you can have a few more of these."

"I'm not sure having home navigation is a good enough reason to get deliriously drunk."

"Of course it is," says Guy, although he doesn't replace the empty glass with another drink just yet. "So, what's been going on?"

"Not very much, to be honest. I work hard, and work does me hard." David's side is still sore, although it's been healed, and it will remain sore for a while. Pagus is a great doctor but David did have a hole big enough to put a finger through.

"Your arm, though... that's the prosthetic?"

"Yes... you haven't seen it?" asks David. He's had the arm fitted more than two years ago. "I really haven't been back for that long? I'm sorry."

Luckily Guy doesn't seem to mind, or he just doesn't want to dwell on it. "Can I take a look?" He peers closer when David rolls up his sleeve. "Oh my, this looks so real!"

"It feels real too. You can touch it; it's warm." David pushes his sleeve up more. "They've put a socket on my stump, it's connected to my nerves. Then the arm plugs into that. It's quite natural; it didn't take me long to get used to it."

Guy doesn't hold back. He strokes the arm, and lets out a squeal. "That skin! This is freaky! Thank god you're not a hairy man, though!"

David snorts. The sort of thing this man comes up with. "That would've been harder to do, I guess."

"How about sensations? Are they just like the real thing too?"

"It doesn't do sensations, unfortunately; the technology isn't small enough to use yet. But I get warnings if it gets hit or if I've left it over the fire."

"Well that's handy, at least."

"I think I've heard every limb pun under the sun, Guy."

"Sorry about that. Another drink?"

"Yes please. Same one if that's all right."

Guy leaves briefly and comes back with a platter of snacks first. It takes him a while to produce more of the multicoloured cocktail, one for David and one for himself.

"How about a toast?"

David raises his glass. "What to?"

Guy rolls his eyes as he thinks. "To the _arm_ y?"

David chortles. "You're terrible!"

Guy twists the tip of his fine moustache between two fingers, looking unrepentant.

"To the army."

"To the _armed_ forces."

"Hey! You're just as bad!"

"It's fine when I say it." David drains the drink. He really likes it; this can get dangerous. His saving grace might be that it takes Guy some time to make them.

Anyway, it's time to address the elephant in the room.

"Yes, Guy, I'm still single."

"Oh, David." Guy habitually takes the empty glasses away. "By choice, I hope?"

David doesn't answer. "You haven't seen them lately?"

"Once, maybe a year ago. I think they were visiting relatives."

"The last time we talked, they were inviting me to their wedding."

A gasp. "The nerve!"

"They're the optimistic type. And maybe a bit naive, looking back. But that really rubbed it in." David half leans on the bar. "I'm over them, but I'm not over what happened, if you know what I mean..."

His then-partners wanted a fourth person in their relationship. David didn't have feelings for that man, but they did, and clearly they loved that man more than they did David. So it wasn't a difficult choice for them to make.

Well, before that there was the cheating, but David didn't find out until later; it wasn't exactly hard to cheat on someone who was away on a spaceship most of the year, fighting in a goddamn war.

Thinking about it, he's never properly talked to anyone about the whole thing. The next person who knows the most is Qubine, and all he was told was "oh, we've split up some time ago." It wasn't that David wanted to hide the facts, it was just a bit too hard to talk about, he really didn't want to elaborate.

"Hmm, I think I do know what you mean. Working behind the bar, I've met all sorts, seen and heard all kinds of things... and I still didn't see that coming. It was a real shocker." Guy shakes his head, as if he is still in disbelief even now. "You've not dated since?"

"I asked someone out," that was also Qubine, "and got turned down." Oh, what a day that was. "I haven't really had the... appetite for relationships since."

Guy helps himself to something from the platter. "That's fine, though. You can't force these things."

"I just find it so hard, even before all this." David hasn't planned to start whining, but now he really wants to let it out. "Finding someone whom you love and loves you back isn't easy in itself. Then you're meant to find at least one more person whom you both love and who loves you both, otherwise your relationship isn't complete. How do I do that again? At what point do you know you _are_ complete? How do other people manage to do that, I need them to come and teach me."

"Oh, gosh, that's so true. You grow up in a big family and you assume that's just how it'll naturally work out. But in reality it's just ridiculous! Look at me, at my age I was still in a pair searching for a third! And it can be so damaging, like if I find someone I like but my man doesn't, or vice versa."

"Exactly what happened with me."

"Exactly what happened with you. But you know what, hon?" Guy finds some new glasses and starts making another cocktail. "Me and my man, we've had a talk. We're going to ignore all that and enjoy our lives as a couple."

Now that's quite the words to say. David sits up a bit. "Always one to go against the grain."

"It's not like monogamy is illegal. All the other mitras do it."

"It's just a tiny tradition that's saved our species and provided the core of our family values."

"But exactly! It's a tradition! We aren't going to die out anymore so excuse my language, but fuck tradition, and fuck anyone who tries to tell me how to live my life!"

The next cocktail is made fast and the layers are messy. David picks it up. "I admire your courage," he speaks from the bottom of his heart. That was such an incredible thing to hear. "To you and your other half."

"To my monogamic life!" Glasses clink together, and they toss the alcohol down again. "I'm not saying that you should do the same, but it is an option for you too, David."

After the third cocktail, David is glad his car is able to take him home by itself. "I've thought about it... but really I just... don't know what I want to do, so I do nothing."

"That's also not a bad thing... going out with the wrong guy is far worse than not going out with anyone." Guy screw his lips as if a terrible memory has just surfaced. "I speak from experience."

"Or maybe I'll find that I don't need anyone at all and my life completes itself. It's all possible."

"Whichever way it happens, if you're happy, then that's the best way."

"Aren't you a smooth talker." David feels too thankful to know how to express it. "Can I get a juice? If you keep that up I'll pass out in half an hour."

The bartender give him a disapproving look. "A juice? I'm about to tell you what you've missed in the last two years and trust me, you don't want to be sober for that."

"Oh dear."

 

**D:** So there are 3 kinds of people in this world.

**R:** Yeah?

**D:** I'm the 3rd kind.

**R:** Which is?

**D:** Male and stale.

**R:** ???  
**R:** I don't get what that means but you ain't stale. 

**D:** My word is law. I am the marquis. You are aware that I have been doing this since the age of 14, trying to fix the world and my life. I am excellent at this.  
**D:** I mean fixing the world.  
**D:** I never fixed my life.  
**D:** My side hurts.  
**D:** I hate it. Feels like losing.

**R:** ???  
**R:** Shit man, Dave are you drunk?

**D:** 3 rainbows and 5 something else, I can still count.

**R:** THIS IS HILARIOUS HI THERE MARQUIS OF ATHLUM HOW'S IT GOING MY LORD  
**R:** But where are you, someone needs to take you home.

**D:** I'm in my .  
**D:** my .  
**D:** I mean my .

**R:** DON'T DRIVE OMG GET A CAB  
**R:** DON'T MAKE ME CALL  & YELL AT YOU COS I'LL SEND YOU THE PHONEBILL

**D:** drives me, I don't drive it.

**R:** OH YOu've got homenav?

**D:** It's fun. Have you tried having sex with homenav on?

**R:** Nope I don't have homenav.  & I love how you still use punctuation.

**D:** I lube nothing.  
**D:** *I love

**R:** I also love how lube is in your phone's dictionary.

**D:** I'm putting music on.

**D:** My fingers combed your tousled hair  
**D:** They still remember  
**D:** When even your face is gone  
**D:** When the hourglass no longer measures hours  
**D:** But millennia

**R:** But milleeeeeeennia   
**R:** The trickle becomes a waterfall

**D:** A waterfall of sand  
**D:** And I'm stood under it

**R:** The dune grows around me and  
**R:** It buries me, buries me 

**D:** Buries me, buries me  
**D:** Maybe this is where I'll find you

**R:** BURIES ME BURIES ME  
**R:** MAYBE THIS IS WHAT I WANTED ALL ALONG OHHHHHHHHH~

**D:** You have a good singing voice.

**R:** Yes Dave cos you totally heard me sing.

**D:** You play a string instrument.

**R:** How did you know?

**D:** Longer nails on one hand.  
**D:** I have that but I just forget to trim them.

**R:** Uh what?  
**R:** Are you home yet?

**D:** You whelp! Have you no manners? That is no way to address the Marquis of Athlum!

**R:** Has my lord reached his residence yet if I may ask?

**D:** The ship is landing as we speak. All conditions normal.

**R:** Good. Go get some sleep.  
**R:** Dave?  
**R:** You still here or are you dead?  
**R:** OK if you see this tomorrow send me a message when you're alive again! If not I'll text you at some point.  
**R:** AND YES I'M SCREENCAPPING THIS FOR POSTERITY'S SAKE.


	10. Chapter 10

A muffled buzzing noise fills the room. David turns over on his bed, the Ramparts cotton so lovely and soft he's prepared to ignore the noise and sleep some more. Bless high thread count.

But he should take that, in case it's work. Even if he has to say "I'm three times over the flying limit, sorry", he should still at least answer.

He looks for the phone. It's somewhere on the other end of the bed, and he can't be bothered to reach for it.

"Nassau. Answer call. Speaker."

A small click.

"Hello? David?"

It's one of his fathers' voice. David lifts his head from the pillow a little, the elevation making his head ache. So much for not getting a hangover. "Yes, Ian..."

"Are you busy today? Arianne wants another sitting with you, but doesn't want to bother you about it. You know how she is."

It takes David a while to process the words. Urgh. He needs water.

"David?"

"I'll come by... late afternoon... was out last night."

There is a short pause, and then a knowing laugh. "That explains the gravelly voice."

"Is there... anything else?"

"Will you be staying for dinner? A few of your siblings might be over as well."

"Hmmm who's cooking?"

Another laugh. "I am."

"Then yes..."

"See you later then."

"Hmm."

After the call, it takes David another quarter of an hour to get up and get himself a glass of water. It's not too bad, really. He vividly remembers how hangovers used to be much worse when he was a teenager. Then there was a breakthrough with the research on how to remove the main symptom-causing compound from alcohol without affecting the taste. Without that, this hangover would require a lot more than a glass of water to fix.

Well, water and more sleep.

The blue light is flashing on his phone when he makes it back to bed. He takes off the clothes he hadn't managed to get out of before falling asleep last night, then buries himself under the duvet, phone in hand, his head pounding somewhat. The screen is far too bright for his eyes right now so he turns it down.

Messages from Rush.

**R:** You still here or are you dead?  
**R:** OK if you see this tomorrow send me a message when you're alive again! If not I'll text you at some point.  
**R:** AND YES I'M SCREENCAPPING THIS FOR POSTERITY'S SAKE.

What in the world...

David scrolls up.

Oh god.

 

**D:** I'm so sorry.

"What's going on?"

"What?"

"What's with the evil grin?"

Rush ignores his sister's comment, gets off the sofa and replies to the message he has just received as he heads to his room.

**R:** Milord! You're awake!

**D:** ......  
**D:** I can't believe I didn't at least declare myself a duke. What use is a marquis?

**R:** Like I'd know! But too late, you can't promote yourself now!

**D:** Sorry again. You should've just ignored me.

**R:** Hey no harm done.  
**R:** About the dick pic you sent me though...

**D:** I did NOT send you anything like that.  
**D:** I WAS NOT THAT DRUNK.  
**D:** RUSH.  
**D:** No photos in my sent items. That was not funny.

**R:** It is. And you still punctuate your sentences! That's amazing.

**D:** ......

**R:** Hey I think you were just cute OK? And really funny. But mostly cute.  
**R:** And you sang Omnistrike with me. None of my other friends would do that. They all suck and don't listen to Omnistrike.  
**R:** So don't fret, everything !

**D:** Thank you.  
**D:** Also thanks for being there.

**R:** Not like I could've done anything if you were DUI. Also you don't look it but you really are prone to freaking out aren't you.

**D:** It only happens when you're involved, somehow.

**R:**

**D:** Joking. Maybe I am simply prone to freaking out.

Too much work pressure, perhaps? David did mention having to make a difficult trip a little while ago. Hope that's not why he went out drinking.

 **R:** Hey, I know my place is quite a hike but it'd be cool if we could hang out again.  
**R:** Or if you like I can get a few days off  & go to Castle? I haven't had enough time to look around last time.  
**R:** And you know, so that you can freak out some more.

Rush waits. That might be a bit too friendly, like he's inviting himself over to stay or something. But whatever, David knows what he means.

**R:** If that sounds cool just lemme know when you're free. If not then no worries.

**D:** I'd like that. Let me check my schedule and get back to you.  
**D:** Otherwise, I still have a reservation at The Tablet.

**R:** Oh yeah when's that?

**D:** I can't remember right now. My head's not fully functioning.

**R:** Oh yeah I forgot you must be hungover right now!

**D:** It's fine, I'm in bed.

David is talking to him from his bed. That's an image Rush doesn't need in his head. He doesn't like having that sort of thoughts about his friends, it makes things so damn awkward.

**R:** Get some sleep.

**D:** Okay.

**R:** Rest well, my lord.

**D:**

 

David doesn't understand why there needs to be multiple sittings for this portrait, since usually Arianne only has one sitting with her subjects.

"You're very compelling," says Arianne suddenly, as if she's read David's mind, "as a subject."

David replies with one arched, cynical eyebrow.

"Do you want to know why?" she asks in a knowing tone, watching David shake his head. "That's one of the curious things about you too."

If she wants to call it that. Most people would probably call him either aloof and uninterested or evasive and cowardly. And all of that is true, to different extents.

"Did you get injured on the job again? You're sitting funny."

Is it that obvious? No, it must be because she's studying him. "Maybe I'm sitting funny because I'm topless and my mother is staring very hard." And he is still a very little bit hungover.

"Don't think just because there are no scars that I can't tell something's happened, David. You came home three weeks later than you said you would." Pencil pauses on paper. "Besides, I read the news. It was 'galactic patrol and special operations forces detain wanted criminals after fierce crossfire', or something like that."

"You know I can't talk about the specifics of what I do."

"I just want to know the specifics about my son's health, not what he does."

David can't win. She always manages to shake things out of him, somehow. "I was hit in the side. It wasn't anything major."

Arianne breathes out deeply. "I need to thank Pagus," she mutters. "Again."

"I love this job."

"I know. I think you're crazy, but I know." Her gaze moves down onto her sketch book. Whatever else she is thinking, she is keeping it to herself.

Listening to the sounds of pencil scratching against paper, David looks around him. This used to be his old room, now repurposed as Arianne's studio. The walls remain teal green. The bed is still here too, but the mattress is gone and a board in its place. It is now where the blank canvases live, alongside new paints and unused brushes. The single bookcase, where Arianne usually sites her easel next to, is where she puts the things that are in use. Several paintings sit on the floating shelf that runs along two of the walls.

The place looks messy, but there is a system. Not the sort of system that would work on a ship, though. If David's cabin on the Valeria Heart looked like this, then... well, it really can't.

David's phone rings at this moment. He takes a look at the caller ID: Qubine. It could be work, so David goes into another room to take the the call.

"Hello."

"David. Enjoying your break?"

"It's about the same as usual." Except for sitting there for his mother to sketch him, that doesn't happen often. "How about you?"

"I'm just about to ask if you want to meet up for dinner tomorrow," says Qubine, the ever slightly lower voice indicating he isn't using his child form at the moment. "I'm landing in Castle tomorrow afternoon."

"Why?" That is totally unexpected. "What are you here for?"

"I have a lot of leave. I need to find things to do to fill my time, somehow. Or do you suggest that I go and visit my parents?"

No. No no. "I am glad I rate higher than your parents," says David with a chuckle.

A soft snort. "I'll be over for a while. So whenever you're free."

"I'm pretty much always free."

"Good. I'll call you tomorrow."

"See you soon."

Almost as soon as David hangs up, he receives a message. Hmm, what's with the sudden popularity?

He ducks back in the studio to pick up his arm; it's faster to type with two hands.

**R:** Just checked, your booking is next month.  
**R:** I mean the table you've booked to eat here.

**D:** Thanks. That'll be my next leave.

It will be his actual annual leave, which he has been asked to take because human resources was getting uncomfortable with the accumulation, otherwise he normally wouldn't be on the ground again so soon after his current time off. Since he has forced Torgal to take his holiday, David couldn't really talk his way out of this one.

**R:** Awesome. Guess I'll see you then!

**D:** Would it be okay if I stayed around for a few days?

**R:** I thought that's the point?

**D:** Great, thanks.

**R:** So who'll you be bringing? You got a table for 2.

That is a good question.

 **D:**

**R:** OoooOOOoooOOooo~  
**R:** (nice emoticon)

**D:** (I learned it from you.)

**R:** You feeling better?

**D:** Who do you think I am? The Marquis of Athlum doesn't do hangovers.

**R:** Amazing.

**D:** Also a friend is coming to visit tomorrow.

**R:** Wow you have friends?!

**D:** I do but you're no longer one of them.

**R:**   
**R:** tbh I'm so jealous cos I was looking at last minute tickets to Athlum and can't quite afford it.

Rush...

**D:** You don't need to do that.

**R:** Real talk: I don't think you're the type to get that hammered then go home on your own singing Omnistrike for no good reason.  
**R:** I suppose there's a lot you aren't allowed to or don't want to talk about,  & it's not like you can just drop it all when you're home  
**R:** But I worry about you anyway.

**D:** You shouldn't. You haven't known me for long.

**R:** Friendship's not measured by time! And I don't need to know a lot about you to care a lot about you, OK?

**D:** How are you still alive? How you are not used and disposed of by the roadside, or at least completely disillusioned by the world?

**R:**   
**R:** I'm a good judge of character.

**D:** I see that real talk has ended.  
**D:** If you do visit I'd be happy to get you the flight tickets.

**R:** Oi I have pride you know!

**D:** Let me pay half, then. It would only be fair.

**R:** Mmm k. We can do that.

David hears a faint rustle. Arianne is at the door. "Dinner."

"Yes. I'll be right there, sorry."

"It's not work, then? You look like you just scored a date."

At his mother's little smirk, David smiles, shakes his head, and just shrugs.

With friends like Qubine and Rush, maybe he doesn't need dates.

 

But of course, being with Qubine in any sort of capacity outside of work always turns out to be a bit like a date. While that in itself isn't a crime, the protective urge David feels towards Qubine, regardless of the form he is using, is just wrong. He is aware of this himself, and can imagine how badly his friend would react if it's ever allowed to manifest into action. The only consolation is that David has started feeling this way long before he learned of Qubine's background.

It's all irrational. David knows first hand what a colossal figure Qubine is within the army, and that he is a fully functional adult outside the spaceship, able to handle himself in any situation, and do it better than David too. If David hasn't had the biggest ever crush on the man which still lingers in his heart now, he would say that Qubine brings out his paternal side, but no, that's absolutely not it. Maybe he just cares about Qubine a lot. And has tremendous respect for him. And just thinks anybody who doesn't see the greatness of the man is an idiot.

Yes, in his normal, adult form he is the most beautiful living thing anyone would ever lay eyes on, and even as a child he makes people look twice, at least. But there is more — even more — to him than what meets the eye and people who look at him and not realise that... their eyes don't deserve him.

See, this is irrational and borderline insane. Stop it, David. Just stop it.

"When exactly is this?"

David finds the calendar item on his phone and sends it over. "I can stop on Celapaleis and pick you up."

"That's the tail end of my leave, but I can go. I'm curious about Rush; you've talked about him a lot."

"No I haven't. You're curious because you want him recruited and on your ship."

"Well." Qubine doesn't deny it. "I hope he really will enlist. If he ends up on the Umbermarici, then even better."

"That shouldn't be hard to arrange." Many soldiers serve on the battleship at some point in their careers, some just stay longer than others. For David, it was nearly eight years.

"It shouldn't be. I'd just like to see what can be made of him."

"'Rough diamonds' again."

"You can't say I don't have a good track record, captain of the Valeria Heart."

"Yes yes, I've flown the nest. Independence is lovely." David sits back and crosses his legs. "I'm sure Rush won't change his mind, but you might change yours after going to the restaurant. You might think cooking is his true calling."

"That good, hmm?"

"You'll find out."

"Even if that's the case, we can find a place for him. A good chef wouldn't be a bad idea for your ship, for example."

That's an idea. It would certainly keep the VIPs happy during envoy duties. And David would love to have Rush on the Heart.

The cafe suddenly gets busier; one of the theatres nearby must just have finished the night's performance. An old lady comes over and asks to take the spare chair. Qubine starts to stand but David is faster, and he carries the furniture to her table for her.

"Rush hasn't even enlisted yet," says David when he sits back down. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

"But sparkles nearly came out of your eyes when I suggested it," Qubine points out, nodding in thanks when someone comes and refills his tea. The waiter blushes and does his best not to stare. "If you want him on your ship I can pull some strings."

"Rush is just..." David sighs. How should he explain? "He's the sort of person you just can't help but love having around."

"Oh? That's an unusual way for you to describe someone."

At least Qubine doesn't jump to conclusions the way most people have done. "Ever heard of the term 'disgustingly sweet?"

"Yes?"

"He's like that, but without the disgusting."

"Not unlike you, then."

Sometimes Qubine says the most ridiculous things that could be mistaken for flirting if this man hadn't already turned David down.

David doesn't want to try a second time. He, and their friendship, can only take so much. And like he told Guy, his heart just isn't in it anymore.

"Anyway." David dismisses the words, and the thoughts. "He'll go where he needs to be, the way I have."

Qubine sips his freshly-brewed tea. "You're right. I shouldn't promise anything."

"Honestly, look at us. It's like we're trying to plan our child's career before he's even born."

Once David puts it this way, they both realise how ridiculous they are being, and drop the topic.

"Let's get something to eat. Then I'd like to ask a favour," says Qubine after a while, setting down his cup.

David lifts his gaze from his right hand. "Yes?"

"I'd like to try drinking."

By that Qubine can't simply mean he'd like to try alcohol — over the years they have drank together more times than David can remember, and there is usually wine at social functions.

So Qubine wants to try drinking, with company of his own choosing and in a completely casual setting, that sort of thing. David isn't surprised.

"I know a good pub."

 

Guy got over his shock of meeting Qubine, who is like a mythical creature straight out of a fantasy novel, slim and long-haired and astonishingly beautiful from every angle, and followed David's instruction not to serve him anything too strong. And also absolutely do not allow David to get drunk.

It was a success. Qubine looked like he enjoyed himself. Afterwards, David gave him a lift back to his hotel, helped him to his room, considered tucking him in but didn't, then went home. The man wasn't too drunk so hopefully he won't get a hangover. There are many seemingly usual or simple things in life that Qubine has never tried. It is such a vote of trust for Qubine to suggest they drink together that David feels an elated buzz in his head that has nothing to do with what he drank.

Two nights of drinking in three days. This time David had company and exercised moderation, though, so Rush should be happy with that.

They're going to The Tablet anyway, but perhaps David should properly introduce Qubine to Rush. Good people deserve to meet other good people.

Yes. That is a great idea. He should definitely do it.


	11. Chapter 11

Rush's father is dusting his collection of spaceship models. They live in a glass cabinet and in theory don't collect dust so Rush doesn't really see the point of the exercise, but it's not like it's hurting anyone so he just leaves his father to it.

"Rush? Have you seen my Umbermarici?"

Rush looks up from his magazine. "What? Is it not there?"

John looks around as he searches, brows knotted, jaw hanging slightly open, then he suddenly smiles. "Ah, there it is!" He picks up the tool he's been using to clean the glass cabinet. "It was under my squeegee!"

"Oh okay," Rush says, about to go back to his reading, but something about the way his father is grinning makes him pause and look up again.

Oh, goddammit.

"DAD. NO."

Seeing his son finally getting his joke, John cackles and goes back to his cleaning. Rush groans and throws his magazine at his father, then reaches for his phone.

**R:** Hey how many dads do you have?

He waits a while, knowing David is probably working or asleep or otherwise busy, but it seems like he's lucky today.

**D:** 2\. Why?

**R:** Double the dad jokes. I'm so sorry for your suffering.

**D:** Why the sentiment? Is John having a great day?

**R:** TOO GREAT

"Captain David's coming back quite soon," John says conversationally, picking up the magazine and passing it back.

"Yeah."

"Is Torgal coming with him?"

"Don't think so; he's booked for two mitras."

"Aw, that's a shame. I really enjoyed talking with Torgal last time."

That makes Rush sit up. "Yeah, you and him went on for a bit. What were you guys talking about?"

"He saw my collection and told me a lot about the Umbermarici! Since he's served on it for years and years—"

Wow. "That's so cool, I had no—"

"—with Captain David, he knows—"

"WHAT?"

Rush's jaw drops. He can't have heard that right.

His father jumps. "What's what?"

"Back up! Did you just say Dave and Torgal were on the Umbermarici? _The_ Umbermarici? The one you have on that shelf?"

"No need to shout," says John with mild disapproval. "But yeah, Torgal was a combat specialist, and David was the second-in-command, that's what I was told. Didn't you know, kiddo?"

Rush sits there, his mouth hanging open, completely speechless.

At this moment, his phone beeps.

**D:** Actually in my family the mum jokes are far worse than the dad jokes...   
**D:** (And I have 3 mothers.)

This guy, who's talking about awful parent jokes with him, used to be the _second-in-command_ on one of the greatest battleships in the solar system?

And all this time, Rush assumed David got a cushy job captaining an envoy ship through connections.

God, he's such a bad person!

Although, not to insult the Valeria Heart and the work she does, but what the hell is a guy like that doing on a ship like that? Did he piss someone off?

No, not somebody like David. There are things Rush doesn't know and he needs to stop with the dumb assumptions and guesses.

And he should reply to the messages.

**R:** My deepest condolences... btw how do you call them, mother, mum and ma???

**D:** Something like that, when I was little. Now I usually just use their names.

**R:** Ohhhhh, I see.   
**R:** Sorry I keep asking idiotic questions about your people btw.

**D:** They're not idiotic at all. I'm happy to answer them. I find two-parent families strange and fascinating myself.

**R:** Galactic culture class was so brief on intra-genus differences! Also they weren't even really galactic!

**D:** Neither is the Intergalactic Army that you want to join. Even 'intra' would be overstating it.

**R:** I NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT THAT.

**D:** It does sound grand, I guess.

**R:** Like the Marquis of Athlum?

**D:** I'm never going to live that down, am I?

**R:** Noooooooope.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"What else did Torgal tell you?"

 

Envoy duties are mundane, but David doesn't mind them. Only hot-blooded children who haven't seen real war or those with deranged minds would want action.

'Action'. What a toxic word. Force is sometimes needed in order to protect people's lives, values and property. It is by no means the positive thing that the word seems to imply.

David has never wanted to participate in any of the battles he has fought in. He just did what he must, and he happens to be quite good at it. And he is still a bit angry at himself for getting injured last time, because he doesn't like getting hurt, and doesn't treat injuries like scout badges. He would never ask the medic to deliberately allow an injury to scar, like some people apparently do.

"Loki? Yes, he asked for that," Pagus tells David when he goes to discuss Loki's new scar across his right arm, just above the elbow. Checking the reports, it must be from the most recent battle. "He has a few scars here and there, from different times in his career. He told me about them when I asked; most are from lucky escapes. They're reminders, not trophies."

That makes David feel quite a bit better. "Keep an eye on how many 'lucky escapes' he has. It can't be good if he keeps narrowly escaping with his life."

"Yes, Captain..."

At this moment, the machine that has been whirring away in the background comes to a stop. Pagus pads over to it and pulls out from the barrel a tube about the size of his finger, containing substances extracted from David's blood. David watches him slot this into the next machine with a similar barrel. It spins into action, the tube disappears, then there was a gurgling noise.

David cringes internally. "That always sounds so unpleasant."

Pagus seems to find that observation rather funny. "But it works very well."

"I know."

There are tubings that run from the second machine, going up to the tank that sits just above. In there, suspended in a clear gel, is David's right arm. The severed end is covered with a socket not dissimilar to the one attached to David's stump right now, with the tubings feeding into it.

He swears he can see the fingers twitch ever so slightly when the blood extract, combined with all the other things the machine mixes it with, enters the arm.

As if in empathy, his own hands twitch too. This is so surreal.

"Well, that's done then. When we touch down you can have your injections too and start your holiday."

They've cut the timing rather fine. Moments after Pagus said that, the announcement comes that they are about to enter Athlum's atmosphere.

It's only a short holiday, and David actually feels quite bad for dragging the whole ship back with him just so that he can hop off; next time he really needs to check the calendar more carefully before arranging leave. Fortunately nobody seems to mind. In fact they seem rather happy about it.

The touchdown is uneventful. Only a few people disembark including, of course, David.

"Any particular instruction, Captain?"

David looks up at Torgal, who will command the Valeria Heart until his return. A memory suddenly surfaces, but when Qubine said these very words to him those years ago on the Umbermarici, the circumstances were so very different.

"Nothing in particular. Just don't fuck up."

Emma narrows her eyes ever so slightly, trying to mask her disapproval of her captain's use of language. Her daughter Emmy, on the other hand, laughs.

"You don't need to worry then! Torgal would never f—" her gaze flickers to her mother, "mess up!"

She cannot be more wrong. If Torgal had not messed up, then David's arm would still be attached to his body rather than being repaired in a tank right now.

Nevertheless, David claps her on the shoulder and does the same to Torgal too before leaving, his mind not on how he lost the arm or the injections that are waiting for him, but on the time ahead, to be spent with two great friends.

When Qubine visited Athlum just a while ago, that was just great fun. They had no plans, no schedules, and thanks to Castle being a city that never sleeps, there was always something to do. Peace and quiet also wasn't hard to achieve when required. David hopes they can do some more of that, but on Eulam this time. Rush would have to work, but hopefully he could join them at some point; if Qubine and Rush get on well with each other, that would be the greatest thing.

Fingers crossed.

 

David has landed this afternoon, and he's going to settle down at the hotel, then come for his reservation tonight. He and a guest have a table at the second sitting, and Rush is dying to know who the guest is, if only because David is being so cagey even in his messages earlier today.

**R:** Fine, at least tell me if you've got 1 or 2 rooms at the hotel?

**D:**

**R:** I regret ever having shown you that emoticon...

Despite that, Rush is making it a point not to go to the dining area or even try to peek through the windows on the double doors of the kitchen, because David and his guest are still customers and he mustn't gawk at them while they eat. Plus, he isn't staying at The Tablet for that much longer, so he should really put his heart into the work now, not to mention how he has to set a good example to Rhagoh and Jager.

He checks the appetiser basket of fried leafhopper legs with mustard dip Rhagoh has made, and deems it good. "Service!"

The food is whisked away to its destined table. At this moment, Rush's mother Marina returns to the kitchen.

"Rush?"

"Yes chef!"

"Come here for a minute."

Rush wipes his hands on a towel and goes to his mother. She has a really, really odd look on her face. "Do you know who Captain David's friend is?"

"No. Why?"

"It's... difficult to explain." Her eyes dart towards the doors. "Take a look for yourself."

Probably someone dark-skinned and pretty, if her preferences are anything to go by. Rush rolls his eyes and makes his way towards the waiters' area, where he can get a good view of the entire floor. David has one of the window tables, and he's being served by Charlotte. Once she moves away, Rush is able to finally see his friend's companion.

...

......

Wow...

Who's that? What's their name? How does David know them? What's their relationship? Are they even real?

"It's a man... I think," whispers Charlotte under her voice when she joins them. "I can't really tell though."

"Does it matter?"

Behind Rush, Jager sneaks out of the kitchen as well, and notices the small group that has gathered. He scans the restaurant, spots who everyone is looking at, and makes an appreciative noise.

"I'll be in my bunk."

"Goddammit Jager!"

Jager just smirks and makes his way to the staff toilet. He's most probably just joking but Rush really, really doesn't want to know, and he better get back to work anyway.

The rest of the night's service goes without a hitch, and towards the end, when Rush gets a moment to check his phone, he finds a message from David.

**D:** Dinner was wonderful. Any chance I can directly show my appreciation to the sou chef?

**R:** Gimme 10!

There are still diners enjoying glasses of wine and cups of coffee, so Rush meets his friend outside instead, in the little garden that leads to the entrance of the restaurant. David has had a haircut, his blond hair is still mostly the same asymmetrical style but now a couple of inches shorter, and looks very smart. He is wearing, wow, a really sharp dark grey suit, three piece and super fitted, one of those you'd see in films being worn by the government's top secret agents. His trousers were pressed with a perfect crease down the front of each leg, leading down to a pair of super nice lace-ups that Rush himself would never wear but could still appreciate.

Rush opens his arms as if he's going in for a hug, but recoils dramatically. "Hang on, what if I creased your nice suit?"

David laughs and throws his arms around Rush. "Good to see you Rush."

"What's the occasion?" Rush returns the hug, and asks in a lowered voice, "you're on a date?"

That prompts another short laugh. "No, I just don't get enough chances to wear all the things I buy." David squeezes hard before letting go. "Let me introduce. Rush, this is Qubine. Qubine, this is Rush."

David's friend (apparently not his date) is a slender person, with a head of straight dark blond hair that just skims the shoulders. Their thin brows are the same blond, and their eyes are a clear, pale blue, framed by long lashes that are ever so slightly curled.

Rush suddenly realises this is only the second time he's ever noticed anything about someone's eyelashes — David's were the first. But, wow, those eyes.

Qubine is beautiful. Their thin lips, their delicate jawline, the curve of their neck, the line of their collarbones, just visible from the gap between their scarf and the neckline of their slightly oversized jumper. Is there a secret club for pretty people or something? Will every person Rush meet through David be crazily pretty like this? Even if David introduced Qubine as an elf, Rush would believe it.

But, whatever they are — Rush hopes he'll soon get a hint on what pronoun to use — first things first. Rush holds out his hand. "Nice to meetcha."

Qubine's hand is on the bony side, knuckles and joints just a little too prominent. "I've heard quite a lot about you."

Whereas Rush has never heard David mention anything about Qubine. But he isn't dumb enough to say that. "Uh-oh." He shoots David a suspicious look. "Whatever he's told you, it's not true."

"I challenge that. The dinner was excellent, just as he promised."

"Haha, thanks." Rush rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. David has repeatedly told him to learn to take compliments, but that's easier said than done. "Glad you enjoyed it."

They stand around and chat for a while, then Qubine announces they want to go back to the hotel first, and politely excuses themself.

"What is it, Rush?" asks David after his friend boards the first tram that comes along.

"That obvious, huh." Guess that's why Qubine decides to leave them alone. "Yeah, there's something I want to talk to you about..."

They choose to walk, in the general direction towards David's hotel. Although the canals are mostly for entertainment rather than transport purposes, the city as a whole is designed for low energy travel: trams, bicycles and walking are popular, whereas cars are few and far between. Right now, many people are enjoying their after-dinner walk, just like Rush and David.

"So, like, I want to apologise," Rush begins, and David tips his head, confused, curious and really, really attractive. "My dad told me about what Torgal said to him last time you guys were here. I had no idea you used to be on the Umbermarici."

The look on David's face changes, and a smile tugs one corner of his lips upwards. "I was."

"You were the second-in-command, right? During the war beyond Undelwalt?"

"I was," David says again, now looking genuinely amused. "You thought I got to captain the Valeria Heart through cocksucking."

Hey, that's too blunt. "I thought you did it through connections."

"Which might have involved sucking cock. Don't pretend the thought didn't cross your mind."

Rush can't tell if this is going well or not. "Well if you knew then why didn't you say something!"

They walk on one of the numerous small stone bridges that cross the canals. "Let me turn that around," says David, his footsteps stopping at the top of the arch, "and ask you this: why did you still extend your friendship to me even though you thought I was that kind of a person?"

"Well." Rush doesn't know why, but he's feeling a bit defensive, and not even of himself. He's defensive of David. "You obviously do a good job, since everyone on your ship likes and respects you. That's all that matters, who cares how you got there in the first place?"

"Then it also doesn't matter if I'd served on the Umbermarici or not; that's not the foundation of our friendship."

Yes, but. No. Something doesn't quite work with that reasoning. "That's not the point. You shouldn't just let people have misconceptions about you."

With a little sigh, David concedes the point. "Perhaps you're right. But I don't like to brag, particularly about the war. To be honest I don't enjoy talking about it."

Ah. Hmm. "That's fair enough, yeah."

"When it comes to achievements, it's much easier and happier to talk about providing help then, well, killing people."

They're blocking other people's way. Rush gestures for them to carry on walking. "Is that why you're on the Heart now?"

"No, but the jobs are sometimes more cheerful, that is true," says David. "Anyway, don't let me put you off the Umbermarici. I had had opportunities to move away from her before, but I chose to stay."

"Sounds like you liked it there."

"I loved the ship, and I still do. If anyone wants the Valeria Heart, they'll have to kill me first and then pry her from my cold, dead fingers, but the Umbermarici has a place in my heart as well. Once you become an officer, you will almost definitely serve on her at some point. Hopefully you'll see what I mean then."

Rush isn't sure if he's right to think that way but David's nostalgia is actually quite sweet in his eyes.

"You know, Rush..."

"Hmm?"

"There was no need for you to apologise to begin with."

A yes-and-no to this, too. "Of course there was, since it turned out you knew what I was thinking."

"But you didn't know that I knew," says David, smiling and shaking his head. "You truly are one of a kind."

Rush narrows his eyes comically and gives his friend a distrustful look. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"It is. Accept it."

"Hmph." Rush hopes he doesn't look too pleased with himself; not knowing how to deal with praise doesn't mean he doesn't like receiving them.

The walk to David's hotel takes just an hour, even at their leisurely speed. Like a kid who just wants to hang out with friends forever, Rush considers suggesting that they grab a drink and carry on chatting all night, but nah, he's worked a full day and David only just landed, it'd be better if they both got some rest.

"You do have tomorrow off, yes?"

"Got the rest of the week off!"

"Great. I'll see you tomorrow then — bring Irina too if she's free, I wouldn't want her to feel ignored."

Oops, Rush has honestly forgotten about his sister for a moment. Good thing David hasn't, otherwise she's going to throw a fit.

"Sure," Rush says, and gives David a super tight hug. "Thanks for visiting, man. I really missed you."

David doesn't say anything and just squeezes back really, really hard.

Yeah, sometimes people just click. Maybe they aren't lovers. Maybe Rush doesn't even know David all that well. And Rush doesn't really want to presume, but, maybe, in some tiny little ways, David needs him.

And he needs David, too. He can feel it. Not just because David was there to show him the path to his dreams before he even knew it was possible, but also that... well, Rush doesn't know what it is yet, but he knows it's going to be another life-changing thing, a positive one.

Or maybe he's just finding reasons to explain why he loves the guy so much and honestly, does that matter? They clicked. Reasons aren't necessary.

"Better let you go; Qubine's waiting."

"I told you we're not a date."

"You weren't, but if you play your cards right..." Rush grins, and David rolls his eyes. Right, enough teasing. "See you tomorrow."

"See you."


	12. Chapter 12

David and Qubine arrive at the meeting place five minutes early, and so do Rush and Irina.

David does the introductions, paying no attention to how Irina reacts to Qubine, which is more or less the same as how everyone reacts when they set eyes on him for the first time.

"So, Irina and I have something to do. Can we meet at that cafe we went to last time in, say, three hours?" David announces after greetings are exchanged.

"What?"

Everyone is understandably confused, Irina in particular. He nods at her, and turns to his other friends.

"So... Qubine, this is Rush. Rush, this is Qubine. You've met last night. You both have a sister." He gestures for Irina to walk with him. "Have fun, see you later."

It takes a while for Irina and him to turn a corner, at which point she immediately stops and gapes at him.

"Oh my god, are you setting my brother up?"

 

Rush watches David and his sister leave. He cannot believe what has just happened. Has David really just...

"He isn't..." This is so embarrassing. Or should he be chuffed that David thinks he'd be a good match to one of his friends? "Is he trying to..."

"Set us up. It does look like it. " Qubine has a look of disbelief on their face too. "David does get funny ideas in his head sometimes, but this is the first time he's done something like this to me."

"Well... just so you know, I didn't ask him to do this. Not saying you don't seem like a good person, but I mean... this is as much a surprise to me as it is to you." David just set him up with someone so ridiculously pretty he can't even look at them straight on. Now what do he do? "Sorry, I assume this isn't what you've come to Eulam for."

"It's fine." Fortunately, Qubine looks more entertained than anything else. They watch Rush get his phone out. "What are you doing?"

"Telling him off."

**R:** DUDE WTF I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU

**D:** At least get to know each other first. You can yell at me later.

**R:** ...  
**R:** Fine, at least tell me what pronoun to use omg?

**D:** He. Sorry I've known him for so long I forget that he can confuse people.

**R:** OK. But you're still dead. YOU ARE SO DEAD.

"What does he say?"

Rush quickly hides his screen. "That we can yell at him later."

"Don't worry about him; he isn't being serious." Qubine smirks. He has an air of easy confidence about him that's different from a lot of people Rush has met, even David. "Then, rather than stand around in horror, shall we find ourselves something to do?"

 

"Maybe," David tells Irina, although he didn't really intend to do that at the start. The original idea was to have them meet and hope they'd become friends. But during the flight he started thinking that it would be funny if he sprang something like this on them.

Hmm, maybe he should follow them. He'd love to see what happens next...

Irina takes a peek back towards where they were. Qubine and Rush are discussing something, and now Rush is texting. David pulls out his phone in preparation, and nearly laughs out loud when Rush asks him for Qubine's pronoun. Honestly David has forgotten that it can be an issue. Should he tell Rush that Qubine is gefyrian? Never mind, they can talk and learn about each other without help.

"Well, they're going somewhere," Irina says. "I can't believe you're doing this! Your friend is _way_ beyond my brother's league."

David chuckles. "Poor Rush. He's not so bad at all."

"I'm not just talking about looks. Qubine's like... I mean I've only just met... him?"

"Him, yes."

"I've only just met him but, I don't know, he just seems very smart and mature."

"But so is your brother," David tells her, and he means it. "And you know that's true."

Irina is about to say something, but she checks herself. They set off, too, David having actually looked up a destination this morning. One of the galleries here has a couple of his mother's paintings, it seems right that he pays the place a visit. Irina knows where the gallery is so she leads the way.

After a while, she exhales deeply. "You're right."

"What about?"

"Rush. He isn't bad at all. He's _very_ smart, and stupidly nice. Everybody fancied him back in school... not that he realised."

That doesn't surprise David at all. "I can imagine. He is quite a... marvel, if that's the right word to use."

"It's going to be weird, once he's gone," she says. "I'm sure my parents will get used to it, but they are going to be quite upset."

"It is possible to find positions that lets him go home more often. The pay is not as good but it's a small trade-off."

"But he wants to go to faraway places and see the world, right?"

It won't make sense to tell Rush to chase his dreams but then put a short leash on him, that is true. "Well... it's not difficult to keep in touch while travelling. If he is quite far away then calls have too much lag to be worthwhile, but mails and short messages aren't a problem at all. And Rush is very good at that."

Irina looks up at David and gives him a funny look. "Only with you."

"Pardon?"

"Before meeting you he wasn't into texting nearly as much."

Oh. "I wouldn't have guessed." It is the same for David, actually. "Anyway, unless he ends up doing covert work, staying in touch is easy." He shrugs, and adds, "so easy that if you have a big family like mine, it can get a bit much."

They stop before a road crossing, waiting for the lights to change. She looks up at him with a grin. "I bet you're your parents' favourite."

"Hardly. I'm just the trouble-maker who needs extra attention. I used to be, anyway."

"Really? No way!" Irina giggles. "Then we're the same! Rush is my parents' favourite. I'm just the trouble-maker."

David raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Are you sure about that?"

"Yup. It doesn't look like that, right? It looks like Mum and Dad really dote on me and don't care about Rush nearly as much, right?" The light is green, and they cross the road. The gallery is in an impressive stone building just ahead of them. "It's because they overcompensate. If you're like me then I bet you know what I'm talking about."

David knows exactly what she means, but to say that would be to agree with her that she's less loved than her brother.

"Even Rush does it. He knows what's going on and he doesn't want me to, so he always makes sure Mum and Dad put me first."

The scene several months ago at the spaceport comes to David's mind, when John and Marina welcomed their children home from their impromptu trip into space. Rush had hung back and made sure his parents fussed over Irina first, and then jokingly accused them of not caring about him. The confusing behaviour now makes sense. Too bad for Rush that Irina just isn't so easily fooled.

"I guess he does it because you are his favourite," David says.

"It's not like there's competition; I'm his _only_ sister."

"I mean between you and himself, he loves you more."

Irina's footsteps come to a halt, right in the middle of the steps leading up to the building's entrance. For a moment she seems emotional, but she brings everything back under control quickly, tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, and keeps walking.

"So, you said you used to be a trouble-maker..."

Perhaps it is time to change the topic.

"I can tell you about it, but remember all of this happened before I was fourteen..."

 

"So... have you been on Eulam before?"

"Only once, a few years ago. I came to this city during the dawn twilight."

There's a little smile on Qubine's face when Rush sneaks a look. "I guess you enjoyed that? Everyone loves those days. Especially us locals actually."

"I can imagine. Seeing that beautiful twilight for a few days after weeks of darkness must be quite uplifting."

"Yeah. It happens every few weeks so you think you'd get used to it, but every time it switches over it's just so ace. And it's not even like marshalls need regular doses of sun like other people—"

"Evolution took care of that, I suppose?"

"Probably. But I guess the sun rising is as good a reason to celebrate as any." Rush shrugs. "Anyway. Anywhere you particularly want to go this time?"

"I haven't thought about it." Qubine gets his phone out. "But David sent me a list of top places to visit and a map just before we left the hotel."

As Qubine goes through the information, Rush checks his phone too — nothing from David. He'd been hoping to hang out with David all day. Not that he minds showing Qubine around, there is plenty of time to hang out the rest of the week anyway, but what the hell, man. Qubine's so... well, he's the prettiest mitra Rush has ever seen, for one. But he also has an incredible presence, Rush can imagine him just walking into a room and everyone would hush and wait for him to speak. How can a person exude charisma like this, as if he is made of it? How come David thinks, even as a joke, it'd be a good idea to set them up? How does Qubine cope with all this attention that Rush is starting to notice he's gathering just because of his mere presence?

"I'd like to see the harbour."

And Qubine's acting like he totally doesn't mind spending the next three hours together, just the two of them? He said he's heard a lot about Rush and Rush thought that was just poking fun, but now he wonders if David has been talking about him and really, just what is there to talk about?

"Sure thing." Rush looks around them, humming under his breath; this whole thing is making him a bit nervous. "We can take the tram, but it goes the long way round. Or we can rent of a couple of bikes?"

Gaze falling on the stall just nearby, Qubine does a little pause that reminds Rush a bit of David. He follows Rush to the stall, studying the array of bicycles available for rent.

"I haven't ridden on one of these since I was nine," he says with a slight laugh, a knuckle rubbing his chin. "I'm not sure that I still know how."

"I'm pretty sure you don't unlearn the skill. Wanna give it a go?"

Qubine contemplates the idea for a few seconds, his eyes straying over to the children's bicycles for some reason, then makes his decision. They pay the lady, Qubine rolls up the hem of his comfortable-looking baggy trousers, and they are off, winding their way away from the shops and onto the wide cycle lanes that run parallel to the main roads.

"So where are you from?"

"Lamberro, Celapaleis."

"That explains it." Rush hasn't been there but he knows Lamberro is the sort of city where cycling isn't recommended unless you want to get mowed down by traffic. "Let me know if you'd rather get off the road."

"This is fine." Qubine looks quite relaxed and steady after the first few minutes. "It feels quite nice, in fact. David is missing out."

"Have you guys known each other for long?"

"A long time," says Qubine after a moment. "It's coming up to ten years, now that I think about it."

Wow. They must have gone to school together, then. Maybe Qubine used to live somewhere on Athlum; it's hard to place that accent anyway.

"Not that I talked to him much in the beginning." Qubine adds. "But you can't not notice David, he does stand out."

And Rush can't not agree with that, though surely someone like Qubine must have stood out all his life as well. David and Qubine in the same classroom though... that must have been quite the class.

"A guy who looks and talks like that, who's really nice, who's in the army. That's the definition of 'standing out', totally." Rush gestures that they should turn right. "What do you do for a living?"

Behind him comes a snicker. "What do you think I do?"

Slowing down so that he can ride beside Qubine again, Rush tries to take a look at him to help himself guess. God, he has no idea. The man is a little bit taller than he is, and quite a bit skinnier too. He's wearing lots of thin layers, shirt under jumper under cardigan under — another cardigan? — under coat, like when he woke up this morning he just threw on whatever he has. And he has a simple canvas bag slung across his shoulders. It's all blacks and greys and beiges except for the purple scarf, but it works, somehow, he looks so pretty and so... snugglable.

Rush honestly would have guessed Qubine is a model, except if he is then Rush would've recognised him. Not that he's really into models but one like Qubine would be famous across the solar system for sure.

"Um... artist?"

"Keep trying."

"Scientist?"

"No."

"You work in a cafe?"

That draws a laugh. "No..."

"You're someone's muse?"

"No..."

"Diplomat?"

That makes Qubine think. "Closer, in a sense. Is there any logic behind your guesses?"

"Not really, this is really hard."

"Hmm, I do suppose you don't look like a chef either."

"Really? What do I look like to you then?"

"A soldier."

Wait a minute. Did David tell Qubine about Rush enlisting, or...

"You're in the army too?" Crap, Rush really wouldn't have guessed.

Qubine chuckles. "I thought it'd be obvious. I told you David and I have known each other for nearly ten years."

"I thought you guys met at school! I mean, how old was he then?"

"Fifteen or sixteen, I think. I was one of his trainers."

"He joined the army at _sixteen_?" No way. No way! "And how old does that make you?" 

"I suppose you haven't been told, then. It depends on what you mean by 'join', since he was on the elite programme aged fourteen," Qubine tells Rush, and gives him a smile. "And have some manners. You don't ask someone their age on the first date."

Rush sputters. And sputters some more. "Crap. No wonder he's a captain!"

David's been in the army for over a decade. He was on the programme Rush wanted to join. And he fought on the Umbermarici during a war. And a guy like that thinks Rush has potential. And Rush had the galls to assume—

"You thought he sucked a lot of dick?" Qubine asks casually. "I'm thirty-four by the way."

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!" They are so not going there. Again.

"Is it that traumatising to be set up with someone older?"

"No, not that!" Though even if Qubine said he was half that age Rush might still have believed it. And why is Qubine playing along with the whole setting up thing? "The other part!"

"Oh, the sucking."

"We already had that conversation thank you." Just last night, in fact. Thank god David wasn't angry about it. "In my defence, he didn't tell me anything so I had nothing to go on."

"Has he been very secretive about a lot of things?"

"Well, we haven't known each other for that long, and I assume a lot of stuff is work-related so he can't really talk about it. Sometimes he sounds quite down but when I ask it's just... nope."

Although he doesn't say anything, Qubine clearly has thoughts about this. If anybody would understand, then it has to be Qubine.

They leave the main road and enter a side street, and come out the other side. The view suddenly opens up, Eulam City's natural harbour cradling the sea before them. The middle section, where they are, is paved and made into a promenade, with either end melting into the woods. With the blue sky and calm sea, it's a perfect day to visit.

Rush literally hears Qubine's breath catching.

They get off their bicycles and walk to the water's edge. Joggers run past them, by themselves, in pairs, or with their dogs. There are also quite a few people fishing, some looking more experienced than others. And some distance to their right and a little bit out into the sea, a lighthouse is being repainted by a single man abseiling from one of its windows.

Rush leaves Qubine there for a moment and gets themselves some drinks from a stand nearby. The cycling wasn't a lot of work and it's a pretty cold day.

"Coffee or hot chocolate?"

"Thank you." Qubine takes the chocolate and stares out into the sea again. He looks like someone who has just found the love of his life and needs a moment to compose himself.

The man who sails the star ocean but in love with the sea. Sounds like a track title from Omnistrike.

Rush spends a while telling Qubine what he'd learned in school about the harbour's history: where they are standing now used to be a fishing village. The waters around here are usually calm, but the harbour provided shelter for the boats and barges when necessary, and it was historically vital to the economy and culture of not just Eulam City but also other cities nearby. Then around 500 years ago, there were talks about making this place into a container port, a proposal that drew fierce opposition from both residents and conservationists. But in the end, the port was built elsewhere only because the water was deemed too shallow for container ships and dredging too expensive. Later on it was discovered that the team that measured the depth of the harbour, led by a woman named Haruko, had lied in their report in order to prevent the development. Those people are now considered heroes.

"I am glad," says Qubine, taking a sip of his too-hot chocolate. "That is a wonderful story. It would have been a crime to do that here."

"If you look that way though, there's a pier." Rush leans over to Qubine, pointing to their left. "There are ferries every hour going to Marion. There are transporters too, but the ferry's popular because the trip's really nice."

Oh no.

_He smells so nice._

Qubine makes a very thoughtful noise. "A ferry... I might have to come back later."

Rush shifts away a little, pretending to adjust the bicycle he has leaned against the railing. So yamaans and sovanis think other races are strange for not being able to smell one another the way they can. For mitras, the closest they get to that is when writers wax lyrical about the natural perfume of young women. When Rush was seventeen he had gone out with a girl like that, though her family was a florist so he could never be sure if the scent was from her or on her.

He takes a great gulp of his coffee. Ouch, too hot. But whatever, he's probably blushing so now he can blame it on the coffee. Maybe it's just the detergent on Qubine's clothes, or his shampoo. Rush can't even say what the scent is like. Pine cones? Freshly-cut wood? He has no idea and he isn't going to take another sniff to find out. It could just be his imagination. This is a man so captivating the joggers are slowing down to get a better look at him, after all.

Qubine seems not to notice, though, or he's just so used to it he isn't bothered by it anymore.

He isn't like David, though. David is hot, with the sort of attractiveness can make your heart jump and your palms sweat and your throat tie up in knots. With Qubine, it is more like gazing at a masterpiece of art, and you start thinking maybe there really is a God.

That's Rush's opinion, anyway.

Coffee in one hand, he folds his arms on the railing, which is printed in white to imitate the old-fashioned white-painted cast iron ones. Okay, so Qubine smells nice. But you're not a weirdo, so don't act like one. "You like the sea, I take it."

Qubine doesn't seem to be aware of all that has just happened inside Rush's head. Good. "It's the blue, I guess. I associate it with Celapaleis."

"Yeah, Celapaleis's really pretty. I mean, Eulam's a bit blue too, but we're only 34% water."

"It depends on the water as well. Athlum looks more turquoise from space, for example."

"That's mostly from the tashlon, right?"

Qubine raises an eyebrow. "Is it?"

"I read it somewhere once. They have more tashlon in the water and their atmosphere is very slightly different than Celapaleis, so it looks a bit darker from the ground. And the colour of the ocean depends on the composition of the water and the sky it reflects, that's why Athlum's kind of turquoise as a planet whereas Celapaleis is definitely blue."

A second eyebrow joins the first. Before Rush can mumble an apology about his nerding out, Qubine smirks and nods.

"Turquoise is not bad, but I prefer blue."

Wow, someone who doesn't mind listening to this stuff. "One of the few good things about the days when it's proper dark here is that you can see Celapaleis really, really well. When there isn't a lot of cloud you can even make out the continents. It's not the same as looking at it from space, but I take what I can get."

"But you will be enlisting soon, won't you?"

So David's told Qubine about that. "Yeah. The form's sent in already. I'm training the kitchen staff for another eight weeks, then off I go. I've been hitting the gym so that I won't be too unfit when it starts, haha."

"Are you excited?"

Excited would be an understatement. "On the one hand, I can't wait, even though I know it's going to be hard work. On the other hand... I'm leaving home," says Rush. "How was it when you enlisted? Was it hard?"

For a few moment Qubine chews on his lower lip, as if he's trying to come up with some sort of reply. Then he drinks his hot chocolate, and breathes out deeply. "I have an older sister. We depended on each other all our lives. Leaving her was hard, everything else was easy in comparison."

It sounds like Qubine doesn't have much of a family to speak of. That's practically the opposite of David.

"Why did you enlist?"

Once again Qubine pauses to consider his answer. "I needed a job," he tells Rush, and snorts once. "I would have said 'I felt a calling while searching for something to do with my life', but you probably already have an over-romanticised view of working in the army and I shouldn't feed to that."

"I don't know about that. I reckon I'm pretty realistic about it."

"Is that so? You really do know what it's going to be like?"

Rush nods. "Not exactly, but I know it ain't roses and unicorns."

"Maybe I can test that claim." Qubine smirks, as if he is daring Rush. "Would you be ready for a quick quiz?"

Getting quizzed by a trainer from the army? Well shit. "Sure, if there's a prize or something."

"How does 'a way to make David feel a bit shocked and uncomfortable' sound?"

Oh, that sounds fun.

"Ha! Go on then."


	13. Chapter 13

"How did you find Rush?"

"Delightful." Qubine has a bit of hot apple pie on the end of his fork. "I mean that unsarcastically; I enjoyed his company. He's also well-informed, and has a good physique. I think he's prepared for what's ahead."

This would not be the first time today David's thoughts grind to a halt. Qubine does have his way of getting information from others, but... "How do you even know what his physique is like?"

That question is replied with a smirk.

No. Nothing could have happened in the few hours Qubine and Rush spent alone together. Rush said they rented some bicycles, didn't he? Qubine must have watched him then.

David had thought it would be great if two of his favourite people got on well with each other, but things worked out even better than expected. He would have never imagined, going to the cafe with Irina to meet up with his friends again, that he would find them leaning close and taking photos together. Irina crept up behind them and got her face in one of the pictures, thus announcing their arrival, and then they all took photos in various combinations and permutations, until Qubine announced he was too old for all these selfies.

It took a while for Rush to eventually explain that this was part of their plan to surprise David, since David was the one to have set them up for a laugh. That made David feel relieved, in a way, but still uncomfortable in others. He had never taken pictures with Qubine or Rush like that, for one. And he doesn't know what that feeling was, seeing those two lean into each other's space the way they did. Was he actually jealous? Of what, or whom? He's not a child, for God's sake, he should be happy with this outcome instead of feeling whatever it is that he is feeling.

David decides navel gazing is a bad idea and he shouldn't start.

"He told me about his routine at the gym, David. That's how I know."

Oh. "I see."

"If you're worried that someone might take him from you then perhaps you should make a move, or at least not set him up with anyone."

"What? No, no." David frowns, and tries not to be annoyed. "I like him as a friend."

And that is the truth, even though David is aware that maybe friendship is not the only feeling he has for Rush.

But.

He doesn't want anyone. He doesn't want a relationship, he doesn't want the commitment or all the other things that go with it, and his happiness and sense of fulfillment, his life, should not be about that.

"Oh." Qubine looks genuinely surprised. "I thought you wanted my opinion of him..."

As if David would ask the man who'd rejected him before for his opinion on or approval of another person he might be interested in. "I don't need anyone's input for that sort of thing."

Qubine puts down the snack that the hotel's room service brought in for him. "My apologies then. I suppose I've got too used to my sister doing it."

"She sets you up with people she likes?"

A shake of the head. "She gets me to spend time with that person to see how I feel about them."

"That's because she wants you to be comfortable with her choice, isn't it?"

Qubine quite literally freezes momentarily. "I never considered it like that; I'm not even at home all that often." He looks away. "But that is not the point, I guess."

It is not. Qubine and his sister share very much the same past. If she ever revealed her experience to a partner, she would be exposing her brother as well. So of course she would only want someone both she and Qubine can trust and are comfortable with.

David goes over to Qubine, picks up a coffee mug and holds it in front of him, breaking him out of his thoughts. He takes the mug and holds it with both hands.

"Well, it would have been good if I realised this sooner."

"You've rejected a lot of them?"

Qubine shakes his head again. "She has a good eye for people."

"It doesn't matter then." David perches on the corner of the bed. He would tell Qubine to not worry about it but it doesn't seem necessary.

And he's right. Qubine takes a drink of his cooling coffee, lowers the mug, and returns to the earlier topic. "So you really did mean to set me up with Rush?"

No, but... "What if I did?"

"Well... I'm not looking for someone but thank you all the same."

That's surprisingly stiff and courteous. "You don't have to be so polite." David wonders if he's actually made Qubine uneasy now. "If you don't like him then you don't like him."

"It's very unusual for you to do something like that. I was rude for not having taken it seriously."

Between most friends this should be quite funny, but even after all this time, David hasn't figured out how much — or little — Qubine can be teased before he becomes uncomfortable. Or maybe David is simply being overcautious.

"It was just a joke."

Pause. "Was it?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes. But it doesn't matter even if it wasn't." Time to lighten things up. David gets his phone out and browses the photos from today. "You do agree that he is adorable, though?"

"It's a matter of personal taste; I wouldn't say that he isn't," says Qubine. He sounds less tensed up now. "But I don't think I've clicked with him the way you have."

They have. David clicked with him too much at the start, even. He has wondered how things might have turned out that day if they were somewhere more private instead of the Brionac with the door open. Would they have got together? Perhaps not. More likely things would have become too awkward between them for any sort of friendship afterwards. That would have been a huge shame.

"I guess you don't really know him yet."

"It's true. My opinion may change in the future, perhaps when he starts working on the Umbermarici."

There are so many things David can say to that. Qubine will not date anyone he works with, or so he claims. But in reality David thinks Qubine doesn't really want to date at all. This is absolutely fine, it's a personal choice, one that's not too dissimilar to how David himself feels these days. What David doesn't know, and would really like to find out, is whether or not fear has anything to do with that choice. He truly hopes not. Qubine is so incredibly, astonishingly strong. He isn't one to let fear dictate his decisions. He shouldn't have to, anyway.

David just doesn't know how to broach the subject without sounding like he is placing expectations on his friend or telling him how to live his life. David himself hates it when it is done to him, too.

One day. One day he will figure out something.

He puts his phone away. "These are good pictures. We should do this more often."

Qubine toes off his shoes, folds his long legs under him on the chair, and picks up his plate again. "I don't see what the attraction is, to take pictures of oneself."

"Aren't you a boring old man."

Eating his apple pie, Qubine looks entirely unconcerned.

"Ah, I looked up the information on the ferry and Marion City. Did you know that there is a theme park?"

That makes Qubine look up. "Are you a theme park sort of person?"

"Not usually, but there is a promotion going on, so children under ten get free entry."

A fork cuts through the pie, hitting the plate with a small clink. Very slowly Qubine casts his gaze across the room to his friend.

"Devious, and pointlessly so. I knew I picked the right person to lead the Valeria Heart."

"'Pointlessly Devious'. I think I'd like that on my tombstone," says David with a laugh. "What'd you have on yours?"

"I've stated in my will that I'm to be put in a soft container and cremated."

Shit. Of course. "How about a plaque?"

David waits as Qubine finishes the lasts of the pie and thinks of an answer.

"I don't know. What do you suggest?"

"'A Boring Old Man'?"

"Accurate. I'm happy with that."

 

Rush scrolls through the photos from the cafe the other day, and sets the one of him and Irina trying to copy David and Qubine as his phone background.

After spending just under a week on Eulam, Qubine has gone home. Well, he's gone back to work, since his leave is ending. Rush never got around to asking what it is that Qubine does now, presumably he's still a trainer. It didn't seem right to ask people about work when they were on a break from it. Anyway, Qubine's really cool. He's like that upperclassman who doesn't mind hanging out with the kids too much, and once in a while he throws over a remark so sharp or so sarcastic it makes you blink, and then double over laughing, and he kind of just shrugs like he thinks you're weird for reacting like that.

But Qubine also has buckets of charisma, and there's an air of distance about him. He has been friendly enough, but Rush can't help but feel that he's also been a smidge distant. It's not something Rush is worrying about; he doesn't need Irina's constant reminders to know that not everybody warms up to others as quickly as he does. And some people just like a bit more space between themselves and other people.

Anyway. Qubine is cool, and ridiculously, impossibly pretty like he was designed on a computer, but most importantly Rush can tell he and David are really close, not just in the way David knows which seat Qubine would prefer at a table or Qubine knowing what David would order from a food menu. Maybe it's a kind of trust from having worked together before, Rush can't quite put his finger on it. But whatever the case, this should mean that rather than bottling up all his stress, there is someone David can talk to about work stuff.

Just as Rush is about to put his phone away, a message arrives.

**D:** Qubine's landed. He says thanks again for your hospitality.

**R:** Wow that's quick. He's heading straight back to work?

**D:** I think so.

**R:** What does he do for work?

**D:** You'll find out eventually. You'll definitely see him again.

That probably means Qubine is still training soldiers and cadets, then.

**R:** I look forward to that!

**D:** So how did you find him?

**R:** OMG I FORGOT. YOU ARE SO DEAD.

**D:** I don't think you dislike him...

**R:** You are the one who showed up with him all dressed up and with a haircut. Also I'm not talking to you. You are dead to me.

**D:** So there's no point in me asking if you want to come out for drinks, then?

**R:** I will accept that as your apology.

He's just come home from a run, so Rush takes a shower before driving to the hotel where David is staying. Although it's light outside, it's actually almost midnight and there are only a limited number of places still open where they can sit down for a drink. And apparently the skylounge at the hotel is nice.

Oh, oh, scratch that. It's not just nice. It's totally ace.

When the lift brings Rush to the top floor of the hotel, he grins to himself. It's a good thing he took a moment to dress up a little before leaving the house. He's never had a reason to visit this lounge before — although he's been to the restaurant to check out the competition — and wow, this is really cool. He has expected the floor-to-ceiling windows and the stunning views, but the ultra modern design and the service robots are a surprise.

There are only a few people around. David is at a table by the window around the other side from the lift, getting his drink from the qsiti-height servbot. Rush helps himself to a seat and picks up the order-tab, a pen-sized device that produces a touch menu when a button is pressed.

"Are you sure you wanna give me the impression that all space captains do all day is have holidays and drink expensive cocktails?"

David lifts his cup at Rush. It looks like he's having coffee, actually. "If it convinces you to enlist, then why not."

"Yeah, cos it's so easy to become a captain." Rush checks the bill so far. David's having a Blackdale coffee, which is apparently coffee with sapphire liqueur. Rush gestures for it, takes a sniff, and decides he wants one of those too. "Qubine told me you've been in the army for more than ten years and you were an elite."

Qubine also said that David doesn't like drawing attention to himself when it comes to achievements. He is proud, but prefers to be low-key about certain things. It's a common trait among many of the captains in the army.

"That blabbermouth."

"What else did you expect two people to talk about when you're their only common link?"

"Damn... I haven't considered that." David puts his coffee down, sits back and crosses his legs. He's dressed up again, with one of those double-collar shirts that looks great on him but would make Rush look ridiculous, and his legs clad in slim-fit black trousers. Rush doesn't really own dressy outfits but he hopes he doesn't look too much like a slob next to David. "You're looking very nice, by the way."

Has David just read his mind? But he did also say something like that ages ago back on the Brionac. Maybe he's just good at complimenting people. "Thanks. And hey what's with the haircut? I really thought you were on a date with Qubine!"

"I always get it cut like this. Then it grows out to what you've seen before, which still suits me. It's the only haircut that works with my face." David fiddles with his fringe a bit. "We weren't on a date."

"I figured afterwards. You wouldn't have tried to set me up with him otherwise."

"That was mostly a joke."

A servbot comes over and places Rush's order on the table. Rush leaves it alone for now.

"I'd be massively overreaching if it wasn't, let's face it. He's so... like, I'd totally believe you if you told me he was genetically engineered."

"Haha, no, definitely not. But that'd explain a lot if it was true..." says David. "And you're selling yourself short again."

"Come on, someone like that is way out of my league. It took me a while before I could even look at his face straight."

To be honest, Rush had much the same reaction to David at the start. But he doesn't know if David smells nice the way Qubine did.

That makes David smile. "I suppose it is true, he tends to get two kinds of reaction from people. It's either he's too much to behold, or..."

He doesn't continue, but it only takes Rush a second to figure out the rest. Yes, he can imagine some people would just want to... ahem, is there a polite way to say "fuck him into the mattress"?

No, no, no. There are now images in Rush's head that he really doesn't need.

He tries his Blackdale coffee. Oh, this is pretty good. "The poor guy. Literally too beautiful for his own good." That might explain the distance Qubine keeps from people. It's also quite the vote of confidence that David set them up, whether for a laugh or not.

"He has his ways of dealing with things, but it's hard for him to make genuine friends... Speaking of which, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you I'd be bringing a friend with me to visit. I wanted you two to meet before work brings you together."

"It's fine. I like him. Just not as much as you're probably hoping I do." To be honest, Rush doesn't even know that he doesn't like-like Qubine. He just couldn't take it seriously on the day, and doesn't think he should take it seriously now. "I'm sure he can find someone real nice. Really, just because I don't look like the type to just want to shag his brains out doesn't mean..."

It isn't until David snorts ungracefully that Rush realises what he's said out loud.

"Crap, how much liqueur have they put in this coffee?"

"I won't repeat that to him, don't worry." David is still snickering. "Do you want to know what he said about you though?"

Oh... um, what if... oh God... "What did he say?"

Infuriatingly, David takes a long moment to savour his coffee before answering. "That you're delightful, but he isn't looking for a relationship at the moment."

"Oh. Okay." Probably this is a "phew" moment. It should be.

"Look at yourself, Rush."

"What?"

"You're leaning forward."

Rush sits back right away. "It doesn't mean anything!"

"You want him to like you."

"I don't! I don't like him."

"You just want to shag his brains out, then?"

Fuck. No, not fuck at all. "Dammit, I'm leaving—"

When Rush pretends he's going to get up, David starts to laugh — he has a really nice laugh — and waves his hands, telling Rush to chill and he's sorry, but Rush's phone rings at this moment. So he rolls his eyes, sits down and answers the call.

"Hello?"

"Kiddo, I'm just wondering where you are. Irina said you went out a while ago."

It's not usual that Rush goes out late at night, so no wonder his father's calling to check. "Just hanging out with Dave."

"Oh, right." A pause. "Remember to use protection, okay?"

What.

The.

_Fuck._

"Dad!" Rush nearly shouts into his phone, only remembering at the very last moment that he should hush instead.

"I'm not saying that Captain David isn't healthy..."

"It's not— No. Just no."

"Son—"

"I'm hanging up. G'night!"

Resisting the urge to turn around and bang his head against the back of his seat, Rush drags his hands down his face instead. Okay maybe he's a bit overenthusiastic and seeing David all the time like a kid with his best friend during summer holidays but. Just. God. He doesn't even know how to react.

"Rush? Are you all right?"

"Killmenow."

"What happened?"

"My dad just reminded me the importance of safe sex." It's not just the assumption that he's sleeping with David, it's also the fact that his father thought he needed the reminder that makes Rush want to groan.

After a moment of stunned silence, David dips his head and does a little embarrassed laugh. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I'm sorry about my dad. He's just..." Rush draws a deep breath, and another, then lowers his hands. He needs to relax, otherwise he might start glowing. "He's always like that."

"If it helps, I don't live with family anymore but whenever my parents found out I didn't go home for the night they always got very excited."

"Parents, eh? It used to be 'are you going out again', 'she isn't allowed to stay over'. Now it's 'why aren't you going on dates', 'go on you know you wanna stay out for the night'..."

"Just swap 'she' for 'he' and that describes my parents too."

That really catches Rush's attention. "So you've never gone out with a girl?"

David shakes his head.

"Not even experimented?"

"I've never wanted to."

It's quite hard for Rush to wrap his mind around the idea that a lot of people don't find everyone attractive. Then again, he's talking to a xiphosian who can fall in love with multiple people simultaneously and sees that as perfectly normal, and Rush surely can't do that.

"Huh... then at least you escaped the 'don't get her pregnant' talk."

"I have to say that I've escaped most talks simply because I left home early." His face slightly flushed, David picks up the order-tab, browses the menu, clicks on something and then passes it to Rush.

"You're lucky. I even had the 'well yes boys okay they don't get pregnant and here are some literature we found on the bees and the bees and by the way have you ever heard of a thing called lubricant' talk."

"They should win an award for responsible parenting."

Rush picks a cocktail from the menu. "The bees talk went so well apparently I'm shagging Qubine's brains out and sleeping with you now." He rolls his eyes.

"I'm sorry I'm such a terrible lay that you have to pull that face," says David with enough mock apology and disappointment to make Rush gag. "It's going to take a while for you to shag Qubine's brains out though — he has got a lot of it."

"Okay can we _please_ stop talking about shagging Qubine? Unless you're the one doing it."

David finishes his coffee, and stares at his empty cup, suddenly looking more sedate. "It's not like I haven't tried."

Wait. Hold up. "You what?"

A snicker. "That sounded awful. I mean I'd asked him out before."

Wow. Wow wow wow. "When was that? And what did he say?" Rush asks, despite the fact that he can pretty much guess the rest.

"It was years ago. He turned me down. In retrospect it was a terrible idea; I knew I stood little to no chance to begin with, but still did it anyway."

"You... don't still like him, do you?"

"Of course not. Don't be silly."

Hopefully that's the truth, otherwise it must suck. "I'm glad you guys are still friends."

Suddenly Rush wonders why it didn't work out for David and Qubine. Did Qubine say no because he didn't reciprocate the feelings, or because David is from a polyamorous race?

No way can he ask that. Not unless if they have another twenty drinks and get totally sloshed.

"Me too." Their new drinks are here already. David takes his and lifts it to his eyes as if to study it, before bringing it to his lips. For a second it looks like he would toss it down, but he sips it instead. "Oh, try this, it's pretty good."

"It means your friendship's really really solid." Rush takes the glass and has a sip. A bit too much rum for his liking. "Haha, when you said you tried I thought you meant you really did try to bang him."

"Haha, no. And although I never had the lube talk, it's quite alright, I know what to do so you don't need to repeat it for my sake."

It's pretty awesome, in a way, that they can talk like this. Rush has never had a male friend who he can just talk about this kind of stuff with.

"It's not like I ever made use of it anyway."

"No?"

"I've... not gone out with that many guys. And my ex wasn't into it."

David just tips his head to one side, thinks about this, then nods with no judgment on his face whatsoever. "One of my exes didn't like it either. It's not that unusual."

"Really?"

"Although it almost always features in porn, statistically-speaking there are fewer gay men who enjoy penetration than those who don't."

Rush doesn't think of himself as a prude, but for him this is the first time the p-word has come up in conversation like this. This is kind of cool but he's also kind of embarrassed, somehow, unlike David who seems so at ease.

"How do you even know that?"

"I don't know if it's true, but it sounds plausible. Someone told me that back on the Umbermarici; when you're on a ship for months on end, conversations can get... strange."

"Right, so it's not a statistic based on personal experience," says Rush, grinning wide when David narrows his eyes at him first, then laughs with him.

"If we're going to talk about experience... I take it you prefer women?"

Damn, why is the topic pointing back at him? "Not really? All these guys I've liked just turned out to be straight." Rush drinks his cocktail, and mumbles. "That's why I've gone out with more girls. But... nothing ever lasted longer than a few months anyway."

That gets David to uncross his legs and sit up. "Really? How come?"

Rush shrugs. "Dunno, but it keeps happening, so I guess the problem's with me," he says, but then David gives him this look, and he sighs. Fine, fine. "80-hour weeks don't leave you much time for dating."

David doesn't say anything for a little while, but his expression changes, looking genuinely sad for a second, so Rush shoots him a look, lifting a finger off his glass to point at his friend. "The restaurant's more important, seriously. So stop it with that sorry look."

"No, I was just thinking... that's partly why my last relationship failed too."

"Oh." Now Rush can't help but make a sorry face himself.

"And I should warn you that if you do fly long-haul, it will be hard to maintain a relationship with partners on the ground."

Haha, David just said "partners". Plural. "But they do allow the soldiers to date each other, right?"

"So long as it doesn't affect your work performance." David looks away, and upends his drink. "Disciplinaries will be issued otherwise. I know of someone who was discharged because they couldn't remain professional."

That's very strict. But Rush hasn't expected anything different. "It's gotta be hard though, if you're on the front line or something. There's gotta be some bias."

David nods once. "That's why the captains of all the major battleships are single; they fly for too long to have a partner on the ground, but can't afford to have any bias."

Rush's eyes widen. "Seriously? All the captains?"

"As far as I know."

"Captain of the Blue Elf?"

"Olebeag? He's single."

"The Brimuslabus?"

"Single."

"The Umbermarici?"

David snickers like Rush has just missed out on a private joke. "Single."

"The Liafort?"

A pause. "Violet. Actually she's an exception. She's married, but I heard that... never mind."

Sounds like there is gossip that David doesn't want to share. "How about the Tao Tie?"

"Widowed. She said she will never marry again."

That's really depressing, all these people not just putting themselves at risk, but also sacrificing their personal happiness in order to keep their solar system safe. And even someone gorgeous and awesome like David has suffered the same fate. That must have happened when he was on the Umbermarici.

"Having second thoughts about enlisting?"

"No, I'm just... having a moment of major respect," Rush says, his voice quiet. "But honestly? I'm not saying I'd ever make it to captain anyway, but I don't ever wanna have to do that."

"Then become the exception. Have a great relationship with someone on the ground, or be with someone you work with, but stay professional."

It's weird to hear David say that, when it so clearly has not worked out for him. "Or be with someone from a different ship, or who works in a different department... but nobody can choose who they like, right?"

Those grey eyes stay on Rush for just a bit too long for David to not be saying a word, then he dips his gaze, staring at his own hands. "That's true. You're right," he says, smiling briefly as he gets up. "Bathroom. Back in a minute. Order something for me?"

"Sure. What sort of drink do you want?"

A challenging smirk. "Surprise me."

Rush responds with the evillest grin he can manage.

Watching his friend walk away, Rush can't help but wonder. Maybe there is someone on a different ship, in a different department, whom David likes.

Someone like Qubine, for example.


	14. Chapter 14

Rush gets up just long enough to get himself a glass of water.

The windows are on dark mode, blocking out any sunlight from outside perfectly, but his watch informs him that it is nearly midday. He's wearing just half of the clothes he wore last night, with the rest lying casually on various spots on the floor. How the night panned out is coming back to him: he and David had a really, really good time just chatting away, and basically forgot about the time, which is an easy thing to happen sitting next to floor-to-ceiling windows when it's light outside all day long. Then the combination of tiredness and alcohol hit them hard all of a sudden. There was no way Rush could drive home in that state, so he said he'd call a cab, but David said he had a room. And for a moment there Rush stayed quiet as his alcohol-hazed brain tried to work out if David really said what he thought he said.

But Rush worried over nothing. The room turned out to be the one Qubine had vacated but somehow still not checked out of. So with that worry out of the way, they stayed at the skylounge until neither of them could keep their eyes open any longer, then staggered to the rooms. The rest Rush doesn't really remember, something about key cards and next door and stuff.

Man, this is the first time he got like this since graduating from college yonks ago. It wasn't like he got drunk-drunk, even, since he could still walk and didn't pass out until he got to a bed but to be honest, it doesn't matter even if he did get proper drunk; experience tells him he is capable of nothing except giggle when there's too much alcohol in his system.

He spots the note on the nightstand just when he gets back into bed: _Call me (4012) when you're awake. — David_

Was David here last night? And haha, look at that, the handwriting is barely legible but he still punctuated.

Rush looks for his phone — damn, it's in his jacket on the floor — and sends a message, in case David's still asleep.

**R:** Good morning, Lord Dave of Athlum.

Moments later, the room phone rings. Rush rolls over onto his front and reaches for it.

"Dave? You're up?"

"Not really..." There's a lot of rustling, then David breathes the words out, his voice a notch lower and more nasal than usual. "How about you?"

Rush feels it before his brain even registers it. Oh fuck. Really? He's getting a hard on?

But of course, really. He's just woken up and David sounds like a sex god right now, so of course his body would react. But no. This is not cool, Rush.

"Me neither. I could do with some food though."

The other side becomes quiet for a bit. Just before Rush asks David if he's fallen asleep again, his friend replies. "Torgal just sent me a status report, I should read that first. But after that, of course."

Should've guessed that David needs to work even while on holiday. "Sure, I need to shower anyway."

"Let's meet in the lobby in... 45 minutes?"

"Okay."

Rush puts down the phone and buries his face in the pillow.

Right, time to get this awkward boner out of the way.

 

Water from the shower hits the back of his shoulders and runs down his body. It's a little too hot, just the way David likes it.

His head bowed, his right hand splayed against the tiles for support, he uses his left hand to stroke himself. Even this has to change since losing his right arm.

Firm, fast strokes. There is no need to drag this out. He doesn't feel guilty about finding Rush captivating, but that is where it needs to stop, since he has no intention to ask Rush out. He doesn't want to think about how Rush discarded his shirt and beckoned for him after being helped to bed last night, or how Rush sounded when they were talking on the phone moments ago, each in their own bed and separated by just one wall.

David gasps, his knees weakening.

He's so hard.

He shifts to lean back against the wall instead, the shower spray now missing him, but the steam still licks his skin. With his free hand he cradles his balls and rubs them. It's odd. He is the one doing it, but his hand feels nothing. In a way, it's as if someone else is touching him.

He switches hands and pumps himself harder. So close now.

"Haa..."

Just a bit more. Please, Rush.

"Hng..."

Yes. Yes yes. That's so very good. That's perfect. He's going to—

His lips part when he comes, but he doesn't make a sound. He arches into his own touch, his back pushing away from the tiles, the pleasure of orgasm making him tense and shudder and forget everything, even the fact that he is only by himself.

But a moment like that can only last so long.

The sound of the shower fills his ears when he slumps back, spent, against the tiles.

Then he makes himself stand, soaps up, washes, and tries to not think about what he's just done.

 

Rush finds himself a seat at the lobby, but hasn't even put his bum down before spotting David stepping out from one of the bullet lifts, looking well-groomed and well-dressed and well, stunning, which is not a word that's often used on guys but it seems right, somehow.

Suddenly Rush remembers that night at The Tablet when he met Qubine for the first time. Qubine and David made such a great pair, and it wasn't just because they were so easy on the eyes. There was this sort of ease about them, the significance of which became apparent to Rush when he learned that Qubine is very much not like that with most people. Sure, Qubine is charismatic in that mysterious way and as a trainer Rush doesn't doubt he's very good at and comfortable with handling people, but he does have this wall, and David is very firmly inside of that, Rush can sense it even in the brief amount of time he's spent with them. The level of trust and rapport between them is something even married couples might envy.

But it turned out Qubine didn't return David's feelings.

That's just so sad.

David is reading something on his phone, but looks up when he enters the lobby. He spots Rush and goes over to him.

"Well you're looking remarkably awake and chirpy after last night." Rush gives his friend a deliberate once-over and tries not to think about how he jerked off thinking about David earlier. Yes he has thought David was hot since the moment they met, but they're friends now and Rush really isn't proud of himself for doing that.

"I was absolutely fine. You, on the other hand... I'm surprised you're upright at all," says David, adding before Rush makes any denial, "you don't remember what happened?"

What? Rush is pretty sure nothing happened. "If you want to troll me you better try harder than that."

"If you don't remember, then good." David smirks, and leaves it at that. Now Rush is actually a bit worried, but he isn't going to show it. When he woke up he had his trousers on and he clearly hadn't been sick, so David has got to be pretending and Rush doesn't want to give him the satisfaction by asking about it. Better talk about something else.

Oh, that's right. Rush reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out a little box. "Hey, I found this on the floor next to the bed. Maybe it's Qubine's."

He hands it over — it's one of those boxes made for storing a single visistone, small enough to fit in the palm of a hand, with tiny hinges on a long side and a latch on the opposite side. This particular one is really nice, black lacquered with what looks like shell inlay near the edges that shine with hues of pearly pink and green under the light. It could be holding a visistone or anything, Rush hasn't opened it, although the thought is tempting and he would have done that had it been anyone else's property. But because it might be Qubine's, Rush feels more inclined to leave it alone. Qubine's already getting stared at every day of his life, he doesn't need people looking into his personal belongings as well.

The same thought obviously crosses David's mind. He turns the box over but finds no particular clue on it anywhere, so he takes a picture of it and sends it to Qubine.

"He'll reply eventually," says David, slipping the box into the inside chest pocket of his coat. "Well? Shall we go get lunch?"

 

The soup is fantastic, and just what David needs. After all the drinking last night, it feels like something light like this is better for him.

Rush has bumped into a friend and gone over to their table to say hi. David takes the chance to check his phone, and finds an email from Torgal acknowledging the receipt of David's instructions, and another from Qubine:

> _From: Qubine  
>  Subject: RE: Is this yours?_
> 
> _So that's where it's gone. Please hang on to it for me for now, thank you._

No mention of what the box contains. The curiosity is really starting to nibble now. David wonders if he can get it out of Qubine somehow, and writes a reply to the email:

_Is it important, do I need to keep it somewhere safe? Or I can put it in the internal post for you if that's better._

Qubine being Qubine, he will see this as the probing question it really is, but hopefully he won't mind.

"How's the soup?"

"It's lovely." Rush has returned. David puts his phone away. "The box is Qubine's. I'll get it back to him."

"Oh, that's good. It's not something important is it?"

Rush is doing what David has just done: probing for information. David has to bite back a smile. "I have no idea, but he didn't sound too worried about it."

With both of them being quite hungry, they quiet down and make most of their way through the food before Rush speaks again.

"You're going home in two days," he says as he mops up the lasts of his soup with a chunk of bread. "This holiday's gone so fast."

David nods. It feels like he only just landed yesterday and he needs to leave again. But he has actually been here for quite long and Rush apparently hasn't got sick of him yet. David doesn't know what he was expecting, but their friendship was mostly developed over phone messages and he was prepared for it to not work out as well as it has in real life. But here they are, lamenting over the end of this holiday.

"Next time we see each other, you'll be a trainee."

Rush's smile is incredibly cute. He is so excited about enlisting that David is excited for him too. "I wonder if our time-off will match."

"It's hard to say; the Heart's schedule can change a lot. Last time I was home weeks later than expected." That was when they had to back up a patrol boat and ended up taking criminals to Koenigsdorf. "The crew's used to not making solid plans."

"What does everyone do when they aren't flying?"

"Sometimes we have courses to attend, otherwise I think most of us just go home and do normal things," says David. "Except for Pagus, he has research work at a hospital. And Torgal spent his last annual leave tuning up the Brionac, which I suppose doesn't count as 'normal' either..."

Rush's eyes nearly light up. "The Brionac though!"

"She is a beauty."

"It's not common for people to have their own ships though, is it?"

"Not too common. It's like how most aeroplane pilots don't have their own plane." David tips his head to one side. "But I do have a ship. That's how I came here."

The reaction is as expected, yet still amusing. Rush's jaw drops, then clamps shut, then he gives David a look that says "I cannot believe you." Snorting softly, David gets his phone out again and finds a picture to show his friend.

"Goddamn." Rush slides his fingers across the screen to get a close-up. "What's her name?"

"He's called Kellendros."

Rush looks up, an eyebrow arched. "Your ship's a he?"

David replies with a raised eyebrow of his own. "Of course my own ship is a he. Why would I choose to ride a girl?"

At that, Rush laughs. "That's true." His attention returns to the picture. The Kellendros is very different from the Brionac. He is definitely not a classic, but is instead the best current model of his class, and will remain so for quite a few years. He can comfortably carry two people — although licenced to carry a maximum of four — and travel quite a lot further than the Brionac before needing to refuel. And he is considerably faster too. When David picked up Qubine at Celapaleis on his way to Eulam, even Qubine said he would have considered buying one if he didn't spend most of his time at work and therefore not have much chance to make use of a personal vessel.

"Jeez, Dave, this is the equivalent to the car that meathead gladiators drive. And guys having midlife crises. There might as well be go-faster stripes."

David makes sure he looks absolutely offended. The Kellendros is gorgeous and he knows that Rush can see it. "But look at him."

"I'm looking. I bet there's a massive exhaust." Rush grins, and brings the phone closer to himself when David reaches for it. "He's awesome. And really proper pretty," he says and returns the phone. "I don't even know how to fly a ship yet and I'm jealous."

"Thank you."

"He looks fast."

"At top speed he can go from here to Celapaleis in seven hours."

"That's crazy! Must've cost you a lot?"

"I'll be paying for him for a few more years," David says. "But I've had a lot of money saved up. I was flying over 90% of the year when I was stationed on the Umbermarici, there was nowhere to spend my salary. And you can only give your family so much before they start feeling insulted."

Rush slowly nods. "Huh..."

Well, David was also paid quite a large sum of money as war compensation, but he doesn't want to talk about that. Rush wasn't entirely wrong when he joked that this was a midlife crisis purchase; David was having a crisis of sorts, losing an arm, losing his partners, and moving away from the Umbermarici all in quick successions.

But, again, he doesn't want to talk about that. The most important thing is that he loves the Kellendros and does not regret the purchase at all.

An idea comes to him. "If you want, we can take him for a spin."

"Go for a spin? On your ship?"

"My licence to carry you is still valid. We can go just a bit outside Eulam, maybe above the satellites. It depends if I can get a lane. Let me check."

"Wha— You mean now? I'm not sure... how do you check anyway?" Rush seems a bit tongue-tied, and gapes as David opens up on something on his phone.

"I have an app for that."

"Oh my god, I don't think I understand the world of spaceship-owning people." Rush rolls his eyes. "Anyway, maybe..."

Logging into the system, David checks the traffic around Eulam today. Space travel is more like travelling by plane rather than the car, one cannot just decide to fly. Sometimes there are routes free and space available, though, and it looks like that's the case today. All he needs to do is apply for it now.

But...

No, this is not a good idea.

"Hmm, all the lanes are full up," he announces and closes the app. After what he's done back in the hotel, he can hardly look at Rush for longer than a few moments without feeling embarrassed right now. Just what is he thinking, to suggest that he and Rush should spend a few hours alone with each other, in close quarters? "Sorry, I didn't mean to get your hopes up."

"Nah, I was gonna say... thanks, but let's stay on the ground. You've come all this way and there's more of Eulam you haven't seen yet."

Rush is blushing. Does he know... he couldn't have heard through the walls? No, of course that couldn't have happened.

"Yes, you're right." David dips his eyes and takes his time to sip on his drink. He hopes he isn't blushing too. "Thank you. If you still haven't got sick of being tour guide yet, then I do want to look around some more."

"Sure! Whatever you want."

"Such dangerous promises."

"Haha..."

 

Rush stares at the new selfies he took with David just before David flew home.

This holiday has been a lot of fun, and he hopes David feels the same. He thinks so, if the hug David gave him was anything to go by. It was as strong as the one they shared the day David landed, and also silent, as if words would only distract them from what he really wants to say.

Or perhaps he's over analysing things. Anyway, David gives really good hugs. People just don't do it properly these days, guys in particular like to keep it brief and slap each other on the back as if holding someone for longer than a second can hurt their pride. Rush rather prefers the "I'm holding you because I like you and I'm comfortable sharing my personal space with you and touching you" style, but hey, he's old-fashioned like that.

He will miss David. It's probably going to be a long, long time before they will get to hang out again, and that's going to suck, but at least they can still chat on the phone. It's better this way, really. Having David —- or David with Qubine — in his head when he jerks off isn't something he's proud of. Not seeing that overly attractive face or hearing that overly sexy voice will definitely help.

Because, yeah, since their first meeting Rush has read _Xiphosians for Dummies_ , and that way of life with multiple partners is so unappealing that any budding feeling he might have had for David was quashed right there and then. Does this make him a racist? He hopes not. In any case, touching himself to the thoughts of someone he firmly sees as a friend is just... well. He can excuse himself the first time, but if it happens again that'd be forming a habit.

It'll be a long time before they meet again, and Rush's life will be very different by then. Perhaps he'd be training on Celapaleis, or already graduated and working on a ship. By that time Rush thinks he'll definitely be used to David enough for his prettiness to not be a thing, like how David is with Qubine. They will meet up, hang out, have fun, maybe even talk about work.

It's good to be apart, yes. But Rush also can't wait to see David again.


	15. Chapter 15

"Are we there yet?"

The journey from Nagapur, sixth planet from the Sun, to the dwarf planet Fornstrand, is short in the greater scheme of things.

"Are we there yet?"

The trip is short, but it feels too long already thanks to their passenger. Sheryl is actually a nice girl, but her voice does grate and she talks _a lot_. And she's the type who hates staying in her room, always roaming the corridors bothering — ahem, being friendly to — people. Even David has fallen victim a few times.

"Are we there yet?"

Torgal narrows his eyes at Blocter, who promptly clams his mouth shut. Witnessing the exchange, David chuckles softly.

"Not quite."

At least David is good at feigning patience when the situation requires it. A few other members of the Valeria's Heart's crew, trying to cope with the endless assaults, are making jokes about putting drugs in Sheryl's food so that she would sleep until they land.

Blocter heaves a deep sigh. "But why do we have to take Sheryl anyway? Nagapur has their own ships! We're the army, for heaven's sake, we do carry people but we carry important people, not Cosmos Maidens!"

"You know why — the Cosmos Maiden has received serious death threats. It's safer to take her to Kosmosfest secretly on a non-Nagapurian ship," David explains. "We happened to be in the area so they requested our help. Rest assured that Nagapur understands they owe us a favour."

David doesn't think he has ever seen Blocter look so defeated before. After a salute, the yama leaves the bridge and David's attention returns to the screens, monitoring any movement within the vicinity. On most ships this would not be the captain's task, but the Valeria Heart is not a normal ship. At any time, part of the crew is rotated between several positions to help practise their skills.

The Valeria Heart is the first of her kind, with a key crew who are jack of all trades and master of one. For example Blocter, although his role is the mechanic, is capable of piloting, performing battle analysis and other tasks so that should all other crew members be incapacitated, he would in theory be able to take them all home, or launch a counter-attack, or take whatever action was appropriate. In the same way, David is able to perform the tasks dictated by Blocter's official role, fixing mechanical and electrical faults should the ship develop any.

The idea of this ship was conceived by Qubine, who wanted to fill the gaps left by the rigid structure of the army by creating agile teams that, while usually operating under disguise, can be mobilised easily and resolve tricky situations. So one can say that when David's name was put forward to be the captain, he was actually being asked to be the guinea pig, to test this idea that might or might not work. Now he understands that Qubine's recommendation was a big vote of confidence, but back then—

This doesn't look right.

David's brows furrow. The system has just updated itself using data collected by nearby facilities and merged that with its own scan results, and about twenty minutes ahead of them is a stationary ship. Further examination reveals it to be of private vessel size, with an Undelwaltian registration code.

Undelwalt is currently at the other side of the solar system. It's unusual for a private vessel to be out this far. Has it broken down, or...

David sends the information to the main screen, drawing everyone's attention.

"Worth looking into."

Torgal, after a moment, looks to his captain. "We are carrying the Cosmos Maiden. Perhaps it'd be wise to pass this to the patrol for them to investigate instead."

It would, but David doesn't want to do that. The person after Sheryl, as profiled by the Nagapurian police, is a religious fanatic who sees the Cosmos Maiden as a "false idol" and thinks her existence is a blasphemy. They possibly belong to the Underwaltian cult whose leaders were tried and found guilty of numerous highly serious offences a few years ago.

And if that's the case, David wants this person apprehended.

"We will approach. Prepare the transporter, lock on to the vessel as soon as we're close enough," he says, and adds after a moment's thought, "get Emmy here, I have instructions for her."

The Valeria Heart slows down and goes just near enough to the vessel for detailed scans to work — it has been modified to carry weapons, and there appears to be only one person onboard. Torgal, not entirely happy with David's decision, makes an announcement about evading debris. The crew knows what this means and will make sure their guest is safe and comfortable.

"Emmy, Torgal, make your preparations and standby at the transporter. Emma, prepare to make evasive action. We will hail this ship as soon as you're all ready."

"Yes, Captain."

David says nothing more. Torgal and Emma are veterans, and he is confident that Emmy will be up to the task. Although her job title is apprentice, she is not far from becoming a key member of the crew, and may one day even fly her own equivalent of the Valeria Heart.

"Everyone is ready, Captain."

Let's see what this suspicious vessel is all about, then.

 

Rush, like all of the other recruits at the training facility, isn't formally welcomed into the Intergalactic Army Training Regiment until a month after their work began. It's not all that surprising — Qubine has warned him that recruits get thrown down the deep end at the start, and would get treated like human beings only if they survived the first few weeks.

"Not until they've sifted out the waste," says a fellow trainee in front of Rush in the rapidly-moving queue. He doesn't make any comment, though he agrees with her, since the first month has been so tough and they've had a lot of drop outs and dismissals. But today they are finally told they'll be welcomed into the regiment.

So now all of this year's recruits, all still relatively fresh and bright-eyed since the day's work hasn't started yet, file into a hall. They're each given a tablet as they enter and take their seats. Sweet. For a while Rush assumed they'd make them all stand through the presentations and he's aching all over from yesterday's physical test just like everyone else, so the sight of chairs makes him so glad.

Quite soon after he sits down, a bunch of kids come in too, confusing everyone for a moment until they realise that these must be the elite programme's youngsters whom they will train with from now on.

Gosh. Look at them. They're so... well, young. The minimum age requirement for the programme is 14 and some of them look like they are only just old enough. That's also how old David was when he joined, if Rush remembers correctly. Did David look like that, he wonders, proud but still a little vulnerable, full of expectations for themselves and expectations from others, and knowing they still need to prove themselves in front of the adults despite being elites?

Maybe he should...

Just when Rush makes up his mind to be friendly to these kids, the man sitting next to him stands up and waves them over, then points at the chairs nearby. Trust Baulson to do that. He's yamaan, apparently on the short side for his race but still looms over Rush easily anyway, and in the month since training began he's become the father figure to everyone.

Most people try to mingle a bit, chatting with the new faces, then the official welcome begins. It's not anything fancy. The Head of Recruits makes a brief speech, followed by representatives from the various corps, some by video link. Related information comes up on Rush's tablet as the presentation goes on. It's not a flashy recruitment pitch, just facts on what he can expect in the months to come.

The interesting part has been saved for the end, with videos of various major ships that Rush and his fellow recruits might be joining at the end of their training. The interior layouts of most of these ships are classified information which none of them have ever seen before, so a wave of excitement ripples through the entire group of, let's face it, space nerds.

Each video ends with the commanding officer of that vessel welcoming them into the army. Rush quickly learns that the captain of the Brimuslabus is a sovani who seems really rather scary. According to the tablet, Captain Wyngale is over a thousand years old. Maybe that's what happens if you've lived that long, you become Really Quite Frightening. But, looking around, that seems to work on some...

The man in charge of the Emeth Tag keeps a moustache which is almost as amazing as what Guy from Warrior's Honor has. He's a far more eloquent speaker than Captain Wyngale.

The Tao Tie is captained by a mitra woman who looks a bit high-strung. The structure of the ship looks absolutely fascinating.

Then comes the video from the Umbermarici. They're at a base in Celapaleis, so almost everyone here calls this planet home. With the Umbermarici being Celapaleis's flagship, it's likely that she will be where most of them want to apply to, so they all pay extra attention.

The Umbermarici is ginormous, although her layout, at least from what's shown, isn't too different from other large ships. She does have more classrooms though. According to the tablet she takes on many young elites who still need to finish school and there's more focus on teaching rather than self-learning.

Towards the end of the virtual tour, the recruits are shown the bridge of the vessel. Rush nearly yelps when he spots David in the background. He knows that's where David used to work but seeing him in a video like this is just so surreal.

What comes next is even more surreal, and it isn't just Rush who draws an audible gasp of surprise.

It is a child who wears the uniform of the commanding officer.

Not just any child. Rush knows this face. He knows that he knows it. But he just can't tell who it is.

Then the child introduces themself. Their profile pops up on the tablet, with two photographs, one showing the child, the other a grown-up version of them, an indescribably beautiful mitra. This is someone Rush knows. He has taken selfies with this person before. He's even set one of those pictures as his phone's background.

Oh.

No.

_You've gotta be kidding me._

 

The pilot of the Undelwaltian ship responds to the hail by opening fire, but the Valeria Heart doesn't dodge — the remnant beam goes nowhere near her. The person on that ship doesn't seem at all capable of using its weapon. But be it a failed act of aggression or idiocy, it still gives the Valeria Heart the justification to act.

Torgal and Emmy board the vessel using the short-range transporter, the camera worn by Torgal sending live images back to the Valeria Heart's bridge. It takes them little time to subjugate the pilot, a male mitra possibly in his 40s. Then Torgal begins to look at the ship's controls to disable its weaponry. From behind the camera comes Emmy's voice.

"Your next instruction, Captain?"

For a moment, David questions if this was a good idea, after all. The man has been restrained easily, but something about him is giving David an uneasy feeling. And there is one important thing that Emmy has not yet done, perhaps only because she is too used to being instructed.

But it should be fine. Torgal is there to back her up.

"What do you think should be done?"

Torgal is finished with the controls, and turns around so that his camera faces Emmy, who is clearly surprised by the question. On the Heart, David ignores the looks he's getting from his crew.

"I would... normally we would bring him into our custody, but due to our particular circumstances... I would see if there is a patrol or other ships nearby who can do this instead, and if we have enough time to wait for them to arrive."

David tells someone to do as Emmy says. "And if there aren't other ships to help us?"

"Then the Heart should carry on with her journey and I can take the pilot and this ship to Nagapur. Either way, we can't just leave this ship here for pirates or other unsavoury types to take for themselves."

Correct assessment. David has nothing to add. "Good. I'm handing this over to you. We'll start looking for back up on this side, I'll let you know of any progress."

"Yes, Captain!"

David switches the channels so that he is only speaking to his second-in-command. "Torgal, remind her—"

"To perform the genus check. Yes, Captain."

And that should be that. David isn't exactly happy that Emmy neglected to do something that simple, but that's easily rectified.

Pulling out the scanner from her utility belt, Emmy approaches the man, who appears to be semi-conscious. She presses a button for the short needle, the same sort used for blood sugar tests, and crouches down—

"EMMY!" David shouts before he even fully comprehends what he is seeing, a faint movement that just doesn't seem right to him. Then his brain catches up: the man's hands are shrinking rapidly, becoming small enough to pull away from the cuffs restraining him to a pillar, then the hands return to those of a grown mitra in the blink of an eye.

There is no need for the genus check anymore. The man is a gefyrian who is capable of partial neoteny.

The bridge of the Valeria Heart watches as Emmy is jumped on and slammed onto the floor, her head connecting with a crack loud enough for Torgal's microphone to pick up. The man then goes for her holster, but he is picked up by Torgal and tossed towards a wall like a ragdoll.

Back on the Valeria Heart, Emma is out of her seat, but she doesn't try to do anything, not without the captain's instruction, and it's not her name that David calls — her primary role is to pilot, there are people more suitable for aiding her daughter and Torgal right now. As Torgal fully incapacitates the man, David sends two more people over to that ship, one to retrieve Emmy and the other to replace her.

Only when Pagus confirms the safe arrival of Emmy at the medical bay does David take the pilot seat and relieve Emma. They are a flexible crew, and this is a flexible ship, but there are still rules and priorities. David doesn't know if Emma resents that he doesn't put her needs first, but he knows there are plenty of other reasons for her to resent him now.

Emmy wasn't ready. David's assessment was wrong and she's paid for his mistake.

 

Back in the room he shares with five others, Rush turns on his phone for the first time in a month and right away gets a few messages from friends and family, despite them having been told that he won't be around for a few weeks at least. Before doing anything else, Rush changes the background of the phone, not wanting any of his fellow recruits to know that _he has a selfie with the captain and ex-vice-captain of the Umbermarici_. The photo also has Irina in it but he's quite sure that's not going to make any difference if someone does see it.

Then he reads his messages, doesn't reply to any of them yet, and writes one to somebody who he thinks really should be yelled at right now.

**R:** QUBINE IS CAPTAIN OF UMBERMARICI?

Lucky timing. David's reply comes almost straight away. He's either on break or he's texting on the job. Probably the former.

 **D:** Yes I might have neglected to mention that.

**R:** I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw him in the welcome video! With you in the background!

**D:** I remember them shooting that video a few years ago. They're still using it?

**R:** More importantly WHY IS QUBINE LIKE 10 YEARS OLD

**D:** He's gefyrian, he can do that.

**R:** YES I'VE REALISED BUT WHY HE 10

**D:** Why not? He's less distracting for the crew that way. That's how he usually looks at work.

**R:** fsadjkfhksjdafhksaldfhksda I thought he was a mitra

**D:** Gefyrians ARE mitras. ;) 

**R:** ARE YOU SURE. They're more like lizards. j/k

 **D:** Try saying that next time you need an emergency blood transfusion. Don't accept the universal donor lizard blood.

 **R:** They're fantastical intersex mitras who can self heal shapeshift donate blood absolutely lovely people please take care of me.   
**R:** (Qubine's so cute though I wanna squish him!)

**D:** (Tell me when you try so that I can witness the event.)

**R:** (Ha! As if I would! I bet he's tiny but mighty.)

**D:** (No chance I can convince you he's made of unicorns and rainbows?)

**R:** ( )  
**R:** Srsly tho thanks for introducing us it's nice to have met the man before meeting the captain/boy.

**D:** :) Anyway. Now that you've resurfaced I guess you've got through your first month? Well done.

**R:** Yeah I'm still alive! How are you doing?

**D:** Also alive.

Rush pauses and frowns at the screen. That's not how David usually talks. On chat he does sound a bit different from in-person but still...

**R:** ?

**D:** Hmm?

**R:** ??

**D:** ???

**R:**   
**R:** Is something wrong?

It takes a while for a reply to come.

**D:** Just work things. Don't worry about it. :)

**R:** <— worries anyway

**D:** It's all part of the job. If that's your reaction you will be constantly worrying now that you are surrounded by other officers.

**R:** Well it's all part of me so I guess I'll just have to cope. You can't stop me from caring.

**D:** Are you trying to seduce me while I'm vulnerable?

The words make Rush cringe at first, but he remembers reading somewhere that one of the quickest ways to make someone feel better is some friendly flirting — it makes them feel good about themselves.

 **R:** Is it working?

**D:** 10 years ago it would've worked.

**R:** So I need to try harder? Maybe the lovely marquis needs to let his hair down a bit hmm?

**D:** You're turning into Guy.

**R:** Hey I'm not don't get your boyfriends mixed up!

**D:** Did you just invent an emoji combination to represent yourself?

**R:** You can have one too:

**D:** That is a circus tent.

**R:** A marquee!

**D:** I can't decide if you are a treasure or a horror...

**R:** Looks like the seduction isn't working.

**D:** I do feel a little better, thank you.

**R:** You have people you can talk to, right? How about Qubine?

Qubine has turned out to be a very important man, but Rush thinks he would make time for David if necessary. Their friendship seems to run really deep.

**D:** Haha I wouldn't bother him with small things like this.

**R:** >:( He told you not to?

**D:** Oh, no.  
**D:** Just don't worry about this. I'm okay.

**R:** Daaaaaaaaave~

**D:** I sound like a raw cadet when I start complaining.

**R:** Oi are you saying cadets are whiners.  
**R:** Cos maybe you're right. XD  
**R:** You can whine at me if you want.

**D:** I know, you've told me before.

**R:** Please don't be one of those guys who bottles up everything  & tell everyone he's alright. :'(

**D:** No.  
**D:** Give me a minute.

Rush waits.

**D:** I'm just terribly bad at dealing with my own failures. I can own up to them, but not much beyond that. I guess I have high expectations for myself and react badly when I don't meet them. Talking about what I've done wrong doesn't makes me feel better, instead I just go over it in my head again and get more disappointed and angry at myself. I'm not bottling it up or pretending things are fine, I'm only trying to stop myself from making it worse because I'm aware of this problem.  
**D:** Does that make sense?

"Yeah," says Rush at the screen. "I think so." Perfectionist? Not quite. An unforgiving high achiever. Perhaps that's just who David is. Perhaps it's what it takes to succeed, since from what Rush can see, David is a pretty successful man.

**R:** I get you. It's alright, who likes to talk about the crappy stuff? Still, you're too hard on yourself. But you know what they say: first step to solving a problem is recognising there's one.

**D:** I know. I'm working on that mindset.

**R:** Good. Cos you're an awesome guy and I like you. And I'd still like you even if you aren't good at everything. eg Four Winds. ;)

**D:** Are you seducing me again?

**R:**

**D:** Unfortunately I can't fly to Celapaleis right now.

**R:** Oh I gotta tell you this. During the welcome video obviously everyone looked up Qubine. But I noticed loads of people were trying to search for you as well.

**D:** Try the list of previous commanders. But why?

**R:** Yeah they found you. Cos you're hot.

Rush did the search as well. The profiles are basic, with names, photos, home planets, previous positions held, general stuff like that. David's current position is also listed, but information on the Valeria Heart's main function is locked, limited to officers grade 7 or above, so it's not highly classified, just not available to trainees.

The first time Rush got to look around the Heart, he did think she was bigger than she needed to be for her apparent role. Captained by someone with David's experience, Rush wouldn't be surprise if it turned out she was more than just an envoy ship.

**D:** Right.

**R:** Srsly. People were staring at your picture and blushing.

**D:** Are you sure they weren't looking at Qubine?

**R:** Some were. But different strokes for different folks.

**D:** This circus tent is on fire then.

**R:** The hot ex-captain of the Umbermarici (who happens to be a top bloke but I didn't tell them) Honestly if you showed up I bet you could start a harem.

**D:** That's it, I'm turning this ship around. I'm coming to Celapaleis.

**R:** So me alone can't make you come but if you'd come for a group.

**D:** <— xiphosian

He really should have expected the reply but Rush bursts out laughing anyway, drawing curious glances from his peers.

**R:** It's OK you've come for me once before.

**D:** I have. And I had a great time.

**R:** If you ever wanna come again I'm totally game. You can bring Qubine again to satisfy your xiphosianess, it's OK I like him too. He can come as well.

**D:** This is verging on a proposition, in which case you can ask Qubine. And if you do that I'll eat my arm.

Don't people usually say "I'll eat my hat"? Maybe it's an Athlumian thing.

**R:** "Hey Qubine, wanna come?" *eyebrow waggle* "I'll make you feel very well-comed."

**D:** If I laughed any louder Torgal would crash in to check if I'm all right.  
**D:** Thank you, I really needed that.

**R:** You're well-come. ;)

**D:** If you've just watched the well-come video, then you should be having the day off? You should go and enjoy Celapaleis.

**R:** Yeah a group of us are getting ready to go.

**D:** Don't get drunk; they'll put you on flight simulators first thing tomorrow.

**R:** Whoa. Thanks for the tip! 

**D:** It's simple, don't worry. Just make sure you know the difference between "small" and "very far away" when you go on full manual.  
**D:** By the way, I learned to fly a ship before I learned to drive a car.

**R:** fdhjsakfhkjsdhfdksalhfsdaflshittttt

**D:** I'll leave you with that thought. :) Now go. Have a good time.

**R:** Hahahaha OK!

**D:** Thanks again, .

 **R:** Anytime, .


	16. Chapter 16

David presses the bell before entering, then immediately backs out again.

"I'm sorry. I'll come back later."

"Captain? It's okay, come in."

David steps inside and keeps his gaze averted as Emmy gets changed. The Valeria Heart's medical bay is adequate for a vessel of its size, and has a recovery room with two beds. He perches on the one Emmy hasn't been sleeping in. It's quiet in here, silent save for the music filtering out of the earphones of the music player that's been left on the pillow. Fortunately David has never been injured enough to warrant a stay here, but he has been told that although it is exceptionally comfortable, the silence can be eerie. Blocter had said he might be able to adjust the air conditioning system to help create a bit of white noise, but since the room is rarely used, the task has been forgotten.

"I smell food," says Emmy, moving around the bed to peer at the bag David has brought with him, her hands freeing her hair from the t-shirt she has just pulled on. Part of her head has been shaved; she had a depressed skull fracture that had to be fixed with surgery.

David finds a tray, puts it on the bed and pours the food out. It's mostly street food, consisting of bits of animal or vegetable on skewers, some sweets, and cartoned drinks. Emmy picks up a skewer with what looks like an irradiated octopus on it and pulls a face.

"What is this?"

"Chargrilled baby charybdis stuffed with quail egg. It's a Kosmosfest speciality."

"It looks horrendous."

"Sheryl promised me it's good." David takes one too. "Shall we?"

It takes a bit of egging each other on before they finally bite into the horrible-looking snack, which turns out to be chewy, juicy, and really rather delicious. David makes a mental note to get more later.

"How was the fest?"

"It'll go on all day. The main event has gone smoothly as far as I know. Sheryl's done a good job."

"They still aren't sure if that gefyrian was acting alone?"

"Not yet."

"Sheryl's very brave, when I think about it. She goes out and does things knowing there are people who want to eradicate her," Emmy says, "She isn't trained to deal with danger the way we are..."

"Emmy."

"I'm so sorry, Captain. I made such an amateur mistake and got overpowered so easily. You gave me a chance and I completely messed it up."

David doesn't know what he can say in reply. She isn't wrong — if the genus check was done as soon as she had control, then the man would have been identified as gefyrian. The standard procedure then would have been to disable his ability to neotenise, so as to prevent nasty surprises just like the one Emmy had.

Granted, it was a surprise to everyone to see a gefyrian, physically-speaking the weakest of all mitra genera, possessing the strength of a yama. Even taking into account the hellbloom found in his blood afterwards, it doesn't really explain it, since drugs don't build muscles. Maybe a man with an altered mind is really able to do anything. Or maybe one should just never underestimate a religious fanatic, or a gefyrian.

David has the feeling— no, he _knows_ it is all of the above.

"We all learned something." He picks up one of the drinks and passes it over, holding himself quite still, not allowing himself to fidget or flex his ankles or anything like that. Don't show any anxiety — it is infectious. "Even Torgal has never met a gefyrian like that before. You took one for the team."

Emmy sucks on the straw of her drink and says nothing. He knows that she knows he's only trying to make her feel better. The inquiry has already started, it's standard for when someone doesn't complete procedure or sustains severe injury during peacetime. With camera footage and voice recordings, there isn't much David can do to shield Emmy from the potential repercussions apart from admitting that he had made an error of judgment himself. They could have alerted the patrol and carried on their journey to Fornstrand, as Torgal suggested, or David could have picked someone else to board that vessel. True, he could always point his finger at Torgal instead, since Torgal was the senior officer present, but he has no doubt Torgal has already attempted to take all the blame for himself when filling in the form. And really, David believes that everything starts from the top. If he was better at his job, this wouldn't have happened.

But it has happened, Emmy is recovering, and everyone has no doubt learned a lesson, there is nothing David can do about it now. In this job, failure can mean the end, but not this time, so he should stop wallowing in it.

Logically, he knows his decision back then was right. The vessel had weaponry which it used as soon as it was hailed, so there really was no other choice but to go aboard and bring things under control. For the general safety of other ships and for Sheryl, it was the right thing to do. He just really, really hates it when things go wrong, that is all. Within the past year, he has let a stowaway on board, suffered injury, and sent crew to handle a situation they weren't ready for. And he's supposed to be good at this job. That was why Qubine asked him to do fly this ship, wasn't it?

Nobody wants a car that won't start, a ship that can't fly. Things that are broken and can't fulfill their roles aren't worth anything, and aren't loved.

"Captain?"

David shakes his head, gives her another snack, and says nothing.

Later on, he leaves Emmy so that she can rest, and gets ready to go out again. With nowhere they urgently need to be, the Valeria Heart will be staying until tomorrow to restock and dispose waste, and over half of the crew is now out enjoying Kosmosfest. Most of them have signed out for the night and David plans to do the same himself. Frankly, it's not easy travelling for weeks on end. People have needs, but anyone with a shred of sense would know that you don't want to do that with a crewmate on a ship with only about the same amount of people as a sovani has digits. And to be even more frank, one night stands on foreign soil are great, since there's next to no chance of one ever bumping into the other again.

Going to his cabin, he swaps his prosthetic arm for a fully-charged one, grabs a jacket and checks his phone. There are no chat messages, but he does have an email.

> _From: Qubine  
>  Subject: No subject_
> 
> _I need to talk to you._

That is unusually vague. David tips his head and frowns at the words, then replies with, _you do?_

He is almost at the exit when Qubine's reply comes. He swears Qubine writes personal emails while working.

> _From: Qubine  
>  Subject: RE: No subject _
> 
> _So I've been told._

The attached file is a screenshot of what must be the screen of Qubine's phone. A familiar contact's name is at the top. The date is from a few days ago.

**R:** Hey Qubine hope you're doing well.  
**R:** I know you're busy but when you have a moment could you please talk to Dave?  
**R:** (He's gonna hate me for this but oh well.)  
**R:** That's all. Ta!

David cannot believe his eyes.

He cannot believe that Rush did that. Oh, he is angry, all right. He knows this is done with good intentions, but the road to hell is also paved with the same thing. All this is going to do is discourage him from mentioning his problems to Rush ever again.

_You can ignore him._

_Is this about your trip to Fornstrand?_

David stares at the screen, unsure how to react.

_Word gets around fast. I guess the whole fleet knows._

_No, David. I've been contacted to identify a man arrested in non-territorial space. I looked up the circumstances surrounding the arrest because I can, and learned that the Heart was involved._

Well, now David feels like a moron.

Reminded of some things, he isn't in the mood to go out anymore, so he types as he turns around to go back to his cabin. It feels odd to use email rather than chat, but that's how the conversation started so he sticks with it.

_I see._

_You were unlucky. Few of my people can shift in such a localised manner and at that speed. How is your officer?_

_I'll let her know, it should make her feel better. She's up and about now, thanks for asking,_ David types, and hesitates a moment before writing the rest. _So, did you identify the man?_

It's a sensitive issue, so when no immediate reply comes, he isn't too surprised. He takes the lift up, returns to his cabin, takes off his shoes and sits on his bed.

Then his phone rings.

"I'd rather there not be a written record," says Qubine as soon as David answers the call. The connection sounds slightly scratchy; the Umbermarici is probably a great distance away. But voice conversation is still doable enough.

"If you prefer, we don't have to talk about this."

"He is one of them. In fact he is, or was, a mid-ranked minister, as far as I remember. So thank you for bringing him in."

Something in David's chest constricts. "Ah... you're welcome."

One of _them_ , with a title. Does that mean that Qubine had...

David will never ask a question like that.

Because if it was 'yes', if it did happen, he would find a way to meet that man again, somehow, and he doesn't know what he might do next.

"If you are wondering, I was out of that place before he had a chance," says Qubine with his child voice, and David can't decide if this or the adult voice would make him feel more uncomfortable, given the situation.

It is only when he breathes out deeply that he realises he has clenched his jaw tight. He admires Qubine so much for being able to talk about this in such a calm, even tone.

"Before he..." he repeats the words, trying to sound confused. "Oh. I— I wasn't thinking about that. But I'm glad."

"Hmm."

He doesn't think Qubine believes him, but that's fine. It's still better than "yes I was wondering if you had been made to have sex with him back in the cult."

"Anyway. I hope the police can build a case to put him away for good."

"It depends on what he did as part of the cult. I won't be privy to that unless the prosecution requires me as a witness," Qubine replies. "But I've been told off-the-record that his actions against the Valeria Heart alone will get him at least twenty years. So my gratitude to you for that."

He did a good thing. That's what Qubine is trying to tell him, and David does hear it. He doesn't know if he feels better, or just a little bit relieved.

"Just doing my job, Captain."

"Now, back to what Rush thinks we need to talk about."

Goddammit. "I assume you saw the records. You have a verdict to deliver?"

"You fucked up."

David actually appreciates the directness. "Yes. My assessment of the crew was wrong and therefore I sent the wrong people. I don't know if there's much to talk about on this."

"Are you disappointed in your officer or in yourself?"

"It was my decision."

"Even though she was the one who didn't follow procedure and therefore brought it upon herself?"

"It was my decision to put her there!"

And David remembers what Qubine told him when he took on the Valeria Heart: making your own decisions is no easy task.

"Then congratulations, you know what it means to be a captain."

"And how about those who pay for my decisions?"

"A little slow today, are we? You deal with it."

"That's easy to say for someone who's never wrong."

Silence.

And then, "David, how did you think I felt when you came back to the Umbermarici with your arm torn off above the elbow?"

For a moment, David freezes. No, he never considered how Qubine might have felt about that.

"It was a result of what happened on the battlefield. You had no direct control over that."

"It was my decision to put you there," Qubine quotes David's words back at him.

"But these things happen. It was a war."

"Do you think it made any difference to me?"

Instead of raising his voice, Qubine is speaking more quietly now, and somehow that conveys more than if he had shouted.

David takes a moment to stare at his right hand. He feels like a moron again. He has only been concerned about Torgal, whose decision on the field had directly led to the amputation, and has not given thought to how it might have weighed on Qubine. But he should have. Despite the jokes, he knows that Qubine is not infallible. He even knows that Qubine cares about him.

"I'm not saying that to make you feel guilty about losing your own arm, you do know that. Particularly since it was Torgal's fault anyway."

David swallows a gasp. "Pardon?"

"I'm not an idiot, David. You might have covered up the facts, but I can still read faces. If one of his arms could replace yours he would have had all four of them ripped out for you."

"So you really are not always right. That wasn't what happened at all."

"We'll go with that if that's what you prefer," says Qubine. "Seems like we've gone off on a tangent."

"We have." David pinches the bridge of his nose. God. At the start he didn't think he could've fooled Qubine, but as time went on he really thought he had got away with it. But it turns out that Qubine does know, and simply decided not to say anything. It's fine. Torgal's career is still safe. "I guess there's still a lot I need to learn as a captain, namely how to deal with the consequences of my decisions."

"It's hard work, I'll grant you that."

"If it helps, I'm quite happy with my arm."

"How is the reattachment progress?"

"Pagus hasn't said that anything's gone wrong, so I guess it's going well."

"You really don't seem concerned."

"Like I said, I like my arm. I enjoy triggering alarms at security checks."

It doesn't do that, actually.

A quiet snort. "Causing a scene everywhere you go."

"Also, it's strong. It will help me hang on when you try to throw me out of the airlock."

"Why would I do that?"

"You'd threatened to do it enough times."

After a moment of silence, Qubine's soft, fond laugh filters through, his memories jogged. "I guess I did. 'The average mitra can survive up to 90 seconds of vacuum exposure. I'll throw—'"

"'I'll throw you a helmet after the first 60.'" David finishes for him. "You've had me traumatised early on, I need my bionic arm as a safety measure."

"I traumatised you? Your version of events is very different from mine. I would say that you invited confrontation."

"Conversation, you mean. Friendly, innocent conversation. But you responded with... malice."

"And yet you kept coming back for more, which said far more about you than it did me."

David laughs. He won't admit to it out loud but Qubine does have a point. Maybe he was a glutton for punishment, maybe he simply wanted to be noticed, it's hard to decide which it was, so many years later.

"And I'll leave you with that, David. There are a few things I need to do."

"Ah, okay. Thanks for calling. I'm..." David sighs. "I'm sorry that you have to do this. I shouldn't be needing your help anymore."

"You're young. You still have a lot to learn, and a lot of time to learn."

"Now you really sound like an old man."

"Don't be afraid to seek advice from others; I've done a lot of that myself. Olebeag is an old hand who has captained for longer than we've lived. Bertrude also has a lot of wisdom to share as long as you don't mention Priam in front of her."

"But not Ghor?" asks David, knowing exactly what the answer will be.

"Talk to that old bat? Why would you do that to yourself?"

"Haha... noted. Thanks again."

"It's no trouble."

 

Qubine hangs up, then opens the messaging screen and starts a reply to Rush, but he doesn't quite know what he should write. After a few moments, he settles with being brief.

**Q:** He'll be fine, I've just talked things through with him.  
**Q:** And I'm good, thanks for asking.

It's a little stiff, but it's appropriate to put some distance between them when Rush is undergoing training. In any case, he is not concerned about Rush right now.

He returns to the bridge with a cup of hot water he got from a machine, and nods when he is greeted by his officers. They're a loyal, hardworking bunch, with varying degrees of ambition — some are hoping to become second-in-command, a position that's been vacant since David's departure. There are a couple who show the potential, but they're not there yet. David's shoes aren't easy to fill and Qubine doesn't feel the need to hurry with the selection anyway.

Letting David go hasn't done the Umbermarici a favour, truth to be told. But with the Valeria Heart proving such a success, the move has strengthened the Intergalactic Army as a whole. Just the other day, the people the Heart helped arrest and send to Koenigsdorf have been successfully prosecuted. Qubine doesn't keep tabs on David's progress because he doesn't see the need to, but when he learned that David's ship had taken one of his parents' followers into custody too, he went and read more of the Heart's records.

And he is impressed. The Heart has removed pirates seeking to take control of the Blackdale asteroid belt. She has supported patrol, transported important goods and people safely and discreetly, and diffused sticky situations. In the short time since her first flight, she has done much, and remained versatile. This is not something any other ship in the fleet can do and, Qubine thinks, not something many captains are capable of. The Heart's crew is smart, quick and adaptable, but many of them are fairly green — the aim is to train them up to be flexible. It is not the variety of work that is challenging for David, but the task of building the team in a manner that has no precedent, nurturing them, claiming their mistakes as his own and letting them take his triumphs.

Qubine remembers being told by Rush during his visit to Eulam that David sometimes sounded down because of work, which Qubine had seldom observed when they worked together on the Umbermarici, and he has definitely not heard even a word about this since David left. But he knows what kind of a man David is. Talking about difficulties equates to whining, equates to weakness, equates to failure. Because of this, when David said that he was happy wearing a prosthetic arm, Qubine didn't believe him entirely.

Qubine should have taken that personality into account. He made the decision to put David on the Valeria Heart, and then failed to support him.

But how can he support a prideful man who is no longer under his chain of command?

The phone in his pocket vibrates. He checks the message:

**R:** Awesome, thanks!

Perhaps Rush is the answer to the problem?

**Q:** Let me know if he seems to be having a hard time again.

**R:** I'll try but he just texted me 2 mins ago. "Do not ever do that again" I think I'm in his bad books I'm gonna leave him alone for a bit................ 

That's also a side of David Qubine has rarely seen.

**Q:** A few days will be sufficient I'm sure.

**R:** Hope so.

There's nothing more Qubine has to say, so he puts his phone away. "Status?"

"Nothing to report, Captain."

His favourite words to hear. "Thank you."

He puts his drink down in the holder then returns to his seat, short legs dangling, his feet unable to touch the floor. Some days he still thinks it's a miracle that he gets away with it, being permitted to lead a battleship with the body of a child, but the fact that he is here at all is already a miracle.

Seeing that minister's face has brought back unpleasant memories and he hasn't slept well for a few days, but those times are mostly behind him. He is robust, as his therapist had put it. The fact that it was David's ship which arrested the man... it's a good feeling. It's as if he has received a special gift. It's silly, but true. He would tell David that, but he doesn't know how to get it across, so he can only hope that David understands that he is grateful. The long time spent in command has made him less good at the sentimental drivel.

"Captain?"

"What is it?"

"It's time to change shift. Perhaps you would like to get some rest?"

His tiredness must be getting obvious. Qubine says nothing but he slides off his seat and starts his way towards his suite. The Umbermarici is sizeable and his legs right now are short, it will take him a while to get there.

But hopefully today he'll be able to sleep without dreaming of those years in the cult's clutches or, since he just mentioned it on the phone earlier, that time when David lost his arm. It wasn't just Torgal who would've given his own limb if it would work. Qubine had offered. Would it not work? Gefyrian blood and organs are accepted by all the mitras, aren't they? David was one of their best fighters, he would need an arm far more than Qubine did.

He really lost it that day.

That carried on until the chief medic reassured him that David's arm came back with him. There had been several cases of successful limb reattachment on xiphosians recently, and she felt confident that the same could be performed on David. There would definitely not be any compatibility issue then and anyway, the captain's skin tone was too light to match the vice-captain, no?

Then Qubine paused, composed himself, and forbade the chief medic from recounting this conversation to anyone.

The door to his suite slides open and he locks it behind him. Then he undresses, allows his body to return to its fully grown form before running a brush through his hair, putting on some pyjamas, switching the light off and going to bed.

Hopefully he will sleep better today.


	17. Chapter 17

**D:** Do not ever do that again.

Perhaps that was a bit harsh, but David is still annoyed and Rush hasn't bothered to reply and apologise, which doesn't make it easy for David to forgive him.

But it was a good thing that Rush did, really, even though David hates the idea of bothering Qubine with his ineptitude. That talk has helped put things in perspective. The fact that Qubine used himself as an example proved how crucial a lesson it was, because it couldn't have been comfortable for him to talk about that.

In fact, thinking about it afterwards, the whole conversation was strategic — by talking first about his own links with the man arrested, and therefore blurring the line between work and friendship, Qubine made it impossible for David to avoid the questions that followed. But that's fine, David doesn't mind the manoeuvre and manipulation, not when it had to be harder for Qubine than it was for him.

Truth to be told, David doesn't know if he's mad at Rush or thankful to him for what he's done. He'll give it some time and then decide.

He's back in Castle. Landing a few days earlier than scheduled, he went to the hospital and got his arm injections on his own, to Pagus's disapproval. But he's a grown man, he really doesn't want to bother his family every time, upset them every time. Later on when they find out they're going to be annoyed, but that's the lesser of the two evils.

He goes home, sits down on the sofa, then decides to lie down. His stump is so sore.

_"David, how did you think I felt when you came back to the Umbermarici with your arm torn off above the elbow?"_

It all happened very fast, and he remembers only some of it: his disagreement with Torgal as to how to approach the enemy, he backing down and trusting Torgal's experience rather than his own judgment, and triggering a trap as a result. The rest of his memories are more hazy: being shielded from enemy fire by other officers, arguing with Torgal that he must remain on the field, and being told that he would bleed to death if he stayed. He doesn't recall any pain apart from the initial amputation; adrenaline must have taken over.

How he returned to the ship in the end, he doesn't remember at all. The next thing he knew, he was at the medical bay, there was a socket installed in his arm stump, and Qubine was coming over to mock him for being _disarmed_ by the enemy.

No, David has never thought about how Qubine might have been affected by what happened, that it wasn't just another unavoidable thing that happened in war. Or perhaps there is no such thing as "just another injury". Either way, it makes the pain David has to endure in preparation for the reattachment worthwhile. The damage was traumatic, but it can still be undone.

But the fact that what happened had made an impact on Qubine was reassuring. David shouldn't need the reassurance — would Qubine have agreed to go on holiday with him to Eulam if Qubine didn't like him at all? — but well, doubt is a funny thing. He's good at taming them but he still has them.

Sometimes he feels like that boy is still inside, fourteen-years-old, his self worth and self confidence shattered by his mother. The boy who ran away from his problems and into the army, where he faked confidence until it became real. The damn child is still there, rearing its ugly head when David's steady life was rocked around the time of the war, and now always prodding, reminding him that people _do_ walk out of another's life — his father did, and his ex-partners too. That child tells him feelings can change, those who claim to love him can turn away from him faster than he can ask, "why?"

The only way to make sure he doesn't get left behind is to prove his worth. That he is dependable as an officer and as a friend. That he can perform even better than before with a prosthetic arm.

No.

No no. He can't live like this. He has to move on.

David sits up and looks around him.

He needs to move on.

The call to the estate agent is easy, and someone is over at the flat within half an hour to assess its value. There is always a high demand for flats near the spaceport, says the suited qsiti who is wearing glasses that are very obviously plano. There will be no problem finding buyers. In fact David better be ready to move.

After the agent has left, David makes a call to his mother.

"David? You're back already?"

"I landed a bit sooner than expected."

"I see. The cleaner hasn't been yet. I can ring—"

"It's fine." Arianne usually arranges for someone to go to David's to dust and change the bedding before he gets home. Sometimes she also does it herself. David doesn't think it's necessary but he hasn't tried to stop her. "I'm selling the place."

A long pause. "Selling your flat?" she asks, and David makes a sound of recognition. "Why, all of a sudden?"

"It's too much space for one person. And prices have gone up by a lot," says David. And it's true, that's what the estate agent told him. "It's a good time to sell."

It's well past time to leave. All the memories associated with this place are to do with his ex-partners; David hasn't even used the master bedroom since they left, keeping its door shut, saying to himself that he's never around long enough to handle a house sale, giving himself excuses to not think about it.

"I see," responds Arianne quite carefully. "So where are you going to live?"

David cringes slightly. He hopes she isn't thinking that he might move back home. "I'll apply for accommodation or rent somewhere for the time being," he tells her, not having actually thought about that question yet. Then he tells her he will be home for dinner tomorrow and ends the call, not wanting her to keep asking questions.

Better look up where he can move to.

He's back in the room to get his tablet computer when his phone vibrates with a message. Reading the screen, David raises his brows — it looks like Qubine is now embracing the chat system. Probably Rush's influence.

**Q:** David. If you still have that box I dropped on Eulam, could you please mail it to my sister?

The message is followed by a contact card for someone named Letitia. The address is apparently that of a cafe.

Swiping the screen with his left hand is slower but David doesn't want to put his right arm back on just yet.

**D:** I can do that. I thought your sister's name would be something more unusual.

David has actually never been told what she is called until now.

**Q:** Why?

**D:** You're the only person I know called Qubine.

**Q:** It's an old-fashioned Celapaleian name.

So "Qubine" is Celapaleian, not Undelwaltian. It doesn't come as a surprise to David. The young man who escaped the clutches of a cult was given a new start at a new home, of course he would've picked a new name to fit his new background story.

**D:** How about Letitia?

**Q:** It just means lettuce.

**D:** Incredible.

He is going to have to look this up. Qubine should be joking but it's hard to tell.

**Q:** That's all, thank you.  
**Q:** Also, sorry about Wagram.

The mention of that name makes David cringe the second time today.

**D:** What's he done and why should I care?

**Q:** Details should be on their way.

As if on cue, David's phone rings, and he answers to an automated message alerting him of an important incoming document. He acknowledges the message, the system recognises his voice and sends the document over.

Someone who was arranged to give talks to cadets from the Elite Programme has become unavailable, and David's name has been put forward as the replacement.

Oh, hell. That's what Qubine means. Wagram must have put his name down, that annoying man just likes to make David's life difficult. He's only just landed today and they want him over at the Training Regiment as soon as possible. Not that he has plans for this break, but still.

David goes back to the chat window.

**D:** Can I say no? I don't have the time. I'm in the middle of selling my flat.

**Q:** You're selling your flat?

**D:** I am. I don't like it anymore.

**Q:** I see. If you can't or don't want to give the lectures they can probably find someone else.

That is an option. It is a request not an order, after all. In truth David doesn't mind doing it even if it's Wagram's idea.

**D:** I'm not sure I'd be the best candidate.

**Q:** Why not? You've progressed very far with your career. It's also easier for the elites to pay attention to someone like you than an older person.

If he puts it that way...

**D:** My records aren't all that stellar. I'm surprised they considered me at all.

**Q:** Perhaps what happened to your officer recently is considered a much smaller incident than you think.

Reading the message, David frowns a little, suddenly suspicious that it wasn't Wagram who put his name forward, but the man he's chatting with right now. He switches the screen to read the rest of the details: it's not even the camp on Athlum that they want him to go to, but the one on Celapaleis. David is on the nearest planet but that's still quite a trip. But the topics do seem worthwhile, perhaps he can help get these kids started on the right foot.

**D:** I think I will go.

 

"The _chariot_ formation is particularly effective when executed using three or more _prismic_ class ships. Using the split manoeuvre you learned yesterday, you can trap your targets like this..."

The tutor does a few quick flicks on his tablet, and the ships on screen show the class exactly what he means.

This is really cool. And really important. But Rush is dying — it's not going to be lunch for another hour but he swears his stomach is already eating itself.

Suddenly he feels a prod in his side. Then a scotch egg enters his vision. Caplan, sitting to his left, smiles at him.

Rush silently mouths a _thanks so much_ and devours the gift. He shouldn't be eating in class, but it's only Colonel Roberto, he won't notice. And even if he notices, he's the nice grandpa sort who'll let Rush get away with it.

All of a sudden, the phone in his pocket vibrates.

**D:** You shouldn't eat in class.

Shit!

Rush nearly chokes. Then another message comes in:

**D:** You also shouldn't use your phone in class.

This is freaky! How can David tell what he's doing? Is he here?

**R:** WHERE ARE YOU

**D:** The viewing gallery at the back.

Oh my god.

It takes forever for the lecture to finish, by which time Rush is once again starving. He turns around and looks up as soon as Roberto dismisses the class, but doesn't see anyone on the gallery.

**R:** WHERE ARE YOU NOW?

He waits — no answer. Right, he should get to lunch. Bad idea to be seen talking to David right now anyway; he doesn't want people to think he's got friends in high places.

Caplan, Baulson and a few others are up ahead. He hurries over to join them, and they're in the middle of a joke about how Caplan hides those scotch eggs when he hear a familiar voice call his name.

Damn.

David is at the end of the corridor, his smile friendly, but also kind of sinister. Maybe Rush is just imagining things; they haven't talked ever since Rush asked Qubine to check on David, so it's been a few weeks. He's pretty sure David is still mad at him, but judging from Qubine's replies things seem to have gone well and hell if Rush is going to apologise for doing a good thing.

Rush and the rest of his group slow to a stop in front of this eye-catching man who is obviously not part of their regiment. Maybe someone of them even recognise him as the guy in the background of that welcome video from a few months ago.

"Rush."

"Hey! What the hell are you doing here?" It feels weird to not go for a hug the way he always does with David, but he'd rather not.

"Just guest lecturing." David shrugs like it's nothing. His hand lands on Rush's shoulder and gives it a quick squeeze. "Look at you — it's only been a few months since I last saw you and you've bulked up."

"You mean I'm not scrawny anymore." Oh god Rush really doesn't want to look like they're best buds in front of all these people. "Oh, um. I should introduce. This is Captain David from Athlum."

Everyone salutes, Rush half a second slower than the others because he isn't quite sure if he ought to. David responds in kind, but in a much more relaxed way. "Lovely to meet you all. I need to run now, but," his smile, now directed at Rush, is definitely mischievous, "I'll be here for a few days, so we'll find time to catch up, yes?"

"Sure thing."

 

Not even five minutes after David left Rush and his fellow cadets, and he gets a message on his phone:

**R:** I hate you so much. And inb4 you shrug emoji at me.

David grins at the screen. It was mean of him to put Rush on the spot like that, now he probably has a lot of questions to fend off.

**D:** It's pay back for your meddling.

**R:** What? I talked to Qubine cos I care about you!

**D:** I told you I didn't want to bring things to his attention.

**R:** Well I'm still not sorry. Anyway what's our backstory?

Somehow David isn't surprised that Rush is so unrepentant. And yes, they do need to make up a story about how they met — after all, Rush had been made to take an oath to not reveal that he had stolen his way on the Valeria Heart, and David doubts he would talk about it now and risk his military career.

**D:** I was sent on a mission to rescue you from pirates, thus earning your eternal devotion and loyalty.

**R:** Or you came to the Tablet once and we got talking.

**D:** Boring. Also mine is more accurate.

**R:** I don't know about eternal devotion and loyalty, but we're still friends, right?

**D:** I suppose.

His finger hovering over the "send" button, David stares at his own non-committal words. That's not how he feels. He might still be a tiny bit angry because Rush didn't listen to him and turned out to know what was good for him better than he did himself. But he is grateful for that at the same time. Rush is exactly the friend he needs, the one who intervenes when necessary instead of going along with everything he says.

He deletes the sentence and starts again.

**D:** Of course.  
**D:** I was going to suggest meeting up when you next have a half-day but...

**R:** Prob bad idea to hang out with the guest lecturer.  >_>

**D:** Well maybe something can still be arranged, we'll see.

**R:** As long as "something" isn't the harem you wanted to assemble here.

David has forgotten about that.

**D:** I'd be grateful if you'd give me a list of willing participants.

**R:** I'm not a pimp!

**D:** Matchmaking, not pimping.

**R:** Desperate~

**D:** You were the one who suggested it to me to begin with.

**R:** ....................well damn.

**D:** Anyway aren't you at lunch?

**R:** In the queue almost my turn SO CLOSE TO FOOD I'M STARVING

**D:** Then we'll talk later. Try not to devour your classmates.

**R:** Haha OK.

Life with Rush in it is definitely better than life without.

David checks the time. He's already reported in and said his hellos to the other staff. During the trip here he's worked out what he wants to teach the kids, and he'll have a meeting about that this evening. Until then, his day is free.

There is one thing that he needs to do, which is to post Qubine's little box to his sister. He quickly looks up the address — the cafe is at the other side of Lamberro. But he's got time to kill and it'd still be faster to take the box there himself than posting it.

David nods to himself, decision made. He's going to check out this cafe.


	18. Chapter 18

Lamberro, Celapaleis is a metropolis, even more so than Castle on Athlum. During a walk to the transporter station one can expect to encounter mitras, yamas and qsitis of all colours, and sovanis are not so rare a sight that people would stare. Also, for its size and population, it is mostly an orderly city. Not in a regimental way, it's just that David feels far more relaxed here compared with, say, when he is at Byon Sector on Royotia, where personal space is not a concept understood by many.

Qubine's sister's cafe is right at the other side of Lamberro from the training camp, in a neighbourhood David has heard of but not visited before. The transporter takes him most of the way there, then he makes the rest of his journey on foot, his attention occasionally grabbed by alternative fashion, by people playing music, by colourful murals several stories tall. Distracted, he misses his destination and has to turn around and go half way back down the street before he finds _Amber Cafe_.

 _Amber Cafe_ , it turns out, is not a normal cafe.

David enters the front door into a reception area. From here he can see inside the main cafe through the glass door, and he is already too amused for words.

"Welcome. Have you been here before?"

"I haven't." David only meant to come here to find Letitia, but the friendly qsiti receptionist is already handing over a tablet and explaining the rules: only use toys and food provided by the cafe, no flash photography, no running, etc. David finds himself happily agreeing to them. Then he hands over his coat — it's always colder on Celapaleis than Athlum — and shoes, and changes into the soft slippers provided before entering the main area.

He is aware how much he sounds like Rush in his head right now, but, this is absolutely mint.

Letitia, older sister of the captain of one of the largest battleships in the solar system, runs a cat cafe.

Cats, along with dogs, are the pets of choice for people on planets and moons this side of Blackdale, so David is no stranger to the felines. But cat cafes are the sort of establishments he has only ever heard of. He counts at least twelve cats of all kinds of breeds lounging around or playing. There are a few tables and chairs, but most of the furniture are sofas and beanbags. There are a couple of customers, a young girl doing some cleaning, and a woman who is unmistakably Qubine's sister working on a computer in the corner.

For a moment David just stands there, mouth slightly agape. He has no idea the sibling look so much alike. Letitia's hair is shorter, but she could have been Qubine's copy.

David gathers himself and walks over to her. "Excuse me? You're Letitia?"

"Yes." The woman looks up from her screen. "Can I help you?"

"Your brother asked me to give you this." David gives her to pretty black box that was found in Qubine's hotel room back on Eulam. "Well, he said to mail it, but I was in the area anyway."

Letitia stands and examines the box's content. It's a visistone, as expected. Now that he is closer to her, David can see that her mouth is fuller than Qubine's, the colour of her long eyes a darker blue, and her brows a bit darker too, but that may just be makeup. She is also a little bit shorter than her brother. Not a copy and, David thinks to himself, not as stunning. But that must be personal preferences talking and it's unfair to compare anyone to Qubine, really.

"The breeding guide. Took him long enough." Letitia extends her hand. "Thanks for bringing it back. You're..."

"David. Qubine's colleague." David shakes her hand.

Letitia's brows gather for a moment as she thinks. "Ah, David. I know who you are. My brother's told me about you."

"He has?"

"You used to be his second, right? And you two went on holiday to Eulam not that long ago," she says. "Sit down, make yourself at home. Would you like a drink? I've got coffee, cocoa, vigorbean milk, a few types of juices..."

Moments later, David is on a sofa with a cat pressed against the side of his thigh, purring as he rubbed its soft, fuzzy belly.

This is _bliss_.

"That's Molly. She's a whore." Letitia reappears with a glass of shockberry juice, which she puts down on a table nearby. She also introduces a few of the others: Romulen, who loves playing with toys; Vorek and Griss who are inseparable, and Stilney the kitten, the latest addition to the cafe.

Then she picks up the little grey tabby who's been staring at David from a few feet away, putting it on his lap. Molly doesn't even look up. "And this is Duke. He's also a whore but pretends not to be. He's my brother's favourite."

David's mind is suddenly filled with images of Qubine playing with cats.

Oh god. Surely so much adorableness is a crime.

Duke studies David long and hard, as if trying to decide if this human's lap worthy of his presence.

"Hmm? Are my legs not as good as Qubine's?" David asks. Duke turns round and round trying to find a comfortable place, then settles down next to David instead, on the other side from Molly, where he can sit on a discarded blanket, paws tucked neatly under him like a little loaf.

"It doesn't look like I have his approval."

"Pat your lap a few times."

"Really?"

David isn't so sure about this — don't people say that cats never do what humans want? — but Letitia nods at him so he does as he's been told. Duke eyes him and, David swears, does the feline equivalent of a long-suffering sigh before _dragging_ himself back to David's lap and curling up.

Then he starts to purr.

"Incredible," David can't help but mutter in amazement. "What an adorable little fuzzball. No wonder he is Qubine's favourite."

"And vice versa. He mopes for days every time Qoobs goes back to work."

David's brain screeches to a halt.

 _Qoobs_. She just said _Qoobs_.

"You look like you just blue-screened."

"You told me boss of many years and the captain of a battleship loves cats and then called him 'Qoobs'. That's practically character assassination."

"And you used to be his vice-captain, and here you are, getting completely cat-haired." Letitia lets out an easy, melodic laugh. "It's been so many years, but I can never see my kid brother as some spacefaring giant."

It's David's turn to laugh. "Well, he's definitely no giant. Spacefaring pixie, perhaps," he responds, and realises, as Letitia's expression turns confused, that he's lost her. "He doesn't tell you what he does at work?" he asks, already getting his phone out. He isn't supposed to show these to civilians, but this isn't going to get him into trouble, except maybe with Qubine.

"What do you mean?" Letitia leans over to see what David is doing. He logs into the system and opens up the register, locating Qubine in an instant, with his two photos. Letitia's jaw drops.

"The one on the left," says David, referring to the photo where Qubine is neotenised into a ten-year-old, "is his usual appearance at work."

Her mouth still open, Letitia gesticulates at the air, then stands up, paces around, and finally sits down again to look at David's screen, her reaction made stranger and funnier by the very fact that she looks so much like Qubine. "And he's allowed to do that? He gets away with it?"

"They probably think it's a good idea. He can still command perfectly well and he's less distracting that way."

"I just... dear god."

Since he has his phone out, David takes a picture of the two cats plastered against him, and a couple of general photos of the cafe too, and sends them to Rush with no explanation whatsoever. Just a few seconds later he gets a reply.

**R:** Where are you and OMG IS THAT MISS QUBINE??

**D:** I told you not to get your phone out in class. She is Qubine's sister.

**R:** YOU NEED TO INTRODUCE US.

**D:** I would but your reaction is making me change my mind.

**R:** Oh well I bet she doesn't smell as nice as Qubine anyway.

What...

**D:** I'm not even going to ask how you know that.

**R:** ;)

David shakes his head at the phone. No, he isn't going to take that bait.

**D:** Put your phone away.

**R:** Yes my lord, Stop messaging me!

"You okay there?" Letitia peers at him.

"Apparently your brother smells nice."

She gasps. "Is he seeing someone? Is that his partner?"

"No, a friend. I think he's just joking. I don't know for certain but I think Qubine isn't with anyone at the moment."

Her shoulders visibly sink. "You had me excited for a moment."

"If he wants to date, he has plenty of options. It just doesn't look like he wants to."

"Plenty of options?"

"I'm quite sure everyone on the Umbermarici is at least a little bit in love with him."

"And you?" She gives him a look.

"I'm not on the Umbermarici," he parries smoothly, his hands back to stroking the two cats; Duke is looking grumpy after David got distracted by the phone. David wonders if the cat can tell that the hand stroking him isn't real. "I've known him for about ten years now, but I don't even know if he prefers women or men or anything at all. At Eulam I tried setting him up with a friend and he said he wasn't looking for someone. Perhaps he isn't into romance."

David can happily go with this idea. It makes the rejection two years ago feel much less a personal blow, when Qubine didn't even take a second to consider before saying no. He had hastily tried to soften the blow after that, but that initial reaction was what David would always remember.

Leaning against the arm of the sofa, Letitia crosses her legs, bringing fluffy kitty slippers into view. "I'm not so sure about that."

"Well..." Does she have stories to share, David wonders. "It always feels to me that the Umbermarici is the love of his life. It's not an uncommon thing for captains." He isn't sure he wants to stay on this topic. "Anyway. So that visistone is a breeding catalogue? Why would he take something like that?"

"He always nicks my stones on cats, the little bastard. It's not a catalogue, more a guide on the breeds, for customers who want to know more. I'll show you."

As Letitia goes to get the visistone and greet some new customers, David takes another photo of Duke and sends it to Qubine.

**D:** Leave the unmarked cash at the pre-agreed location or he gets it.

 

**D:** Leave the unmarked cash at the pre-agreed location or he gets it.

David is at Letitia's, then. Qubine nearly smacks himself in the face — he should have foreseen this. Usually a new picture of his favourite four-legged friend would make him smile, but all he feels right now is rising panic. Instead of replying to David, he writes a message to his sister. Hopefully she isn't at the main cafe today and they haven't actually met.

**Q:** Are you at the mothership today? A friend of mine is stopping by.

**L:** He's here. He seems nice.

Damn.

**Q:** I know what you're like. Please don't ask him awkward questions.

He waits.

**L:** Whoops?

It's too late for damage control, then.

**L:** Why, have you broken his heart before?  
**L:** You have, haven't you?

He mentally goes through a list of responses he can use, then decides on the simplest one.

**Q:** I just don't like him that way.

**L:** The poor boy. He's gorgeous!

**Q:** That makes no difference.

**L:** No wonder he changed the topic.

Dear god. She's talked long enough for David to change the topic.

There is nothing more he wants to say to his sister, so he switches back to David's message. He isn't completely comfortable with David meeting Letitia, but that's entirely to do with his own habit of keeping her away, and nothing to do with David at all.

He considers apologising on his sister's behalf, but on second thought it's probably better to just not say anything. He just replies to David's photo instead.

**Q:** Or he gets what?

 

**Q:** Or he gets what?

That is a good question.

**D:** He gets nominated as an honorary member of the Valeria Heart and embarks on a new journey, boldly going where no cat has gone before.

**Q:** Far be it from me to get in his way, but I will be heartbroken.

David imagines his friend saying that, completely deadpan, and laughs.

Letitia is now showing an example of the many visistones that her brother has "borrowed" from her before. David had no idea Qubine is such a cat lover, since Qubine hardly ever talks about his private life. There was that one time when he offhandedly mentioned he wanted to keep a cat on his ship, but that is all that David can think of. Well now he knows what to get next time Qubine has a birthday; the man can have kitty-themed gifts for the rest of his life.

David ends up staying far longer at the cafe than he has originally planned. Letitia insists on waiving his bill, so he touches his card on the charity collection for an animal shelter instead.

"Here." She lends him a lint roller. "We have the technology to fly to the other end of the solar system, but this is still the best invention for cat hair."

David chuckles a little and uses the tool de-fur himself before putting his shoes and coat back on.

"Thanks for coming, David. It's really nice to finally meet one of my brother's colleagues."

"I can't believe he never told me about this cafe. I'm definitely coming back."

"I have two branches in Lamberro and another in Grants. You're always welcome to visit."

"I most definitely will."

 

**L:** Pass!

**Q:** What?

**L:** He passes. I like him.

**Q:** I didn't send him. Please don't assess him for whatever it is you have in mind.

**L:** He's your type.

Reading that, Qubine rolls his eyes.

**Q:** If I have a type, he is not it.

**L:** But you don't have a type, so he might be it?

**Q:** Why do I even bother talking to you?

**L:** Because I have new pics of Duke.

Several photos of Duke with David arrive. The cat looks the same as always. His new human friend, on the other hand, seems to have slimmed down a little, though Qubine can't say for certain.

**L:** Duke likes him too.

**Q:** You're being unusually pushy.

**L:** He didn't ask usual questions like how long I've run the cafe for, if you've always wanted to join the army or what you were like as a kid.  
**L:** How much does he know?

**Q:** Everything.

That was a very long conversation, one which was easier than Qubine had expected.

**L:** You trust him with all that, but you're telling me you don't like him even a little bit?

Qubine doesn't really know what to say.

**Q:** Trust and love are different. And that was some time ago, I'm sure he has moved on.

His money is on David and Rush getting together. Eventually.

**L:** OK. I just want to make sure you really are happy.  
**L:** btw stop nicking my visistones! You can buy your own!

**Q:** No.

 

The visitors' accommodation at the training camp is quite decent. A little tired-looking perhaps, but that's easily fixed with a lick of paint on the walls. The bed is very comfortable, the shower has plenty of pressure and the heating works well, those are the things David really cares about.

He's had a coffee with a couple of the colonels, who seemed happy with the lesson plans he has prepared, which is good since he has never made one before and isn't keen on redoing them. His main purpose of being here, as a young captain on active duty, is to show the cadets how it all applies, and therefore help them understand the importance of what they're being taught — the children are elites, but they are still children and they need to be motivated to stay concentrated ten, twelve hours a day. David still remembers that feeling himself.

Teaching cadets. This is going to be strange. David doesn't mind public speaking, but just what were Qubine and Wagram thinking, putting him up for this job?

Never mind. He starts tomorrow and it's only for a few days, he'll just have to see how it goes.

He takes off his right arm, puts it on charge and goes to sleep.

 

_"Do you like this?" asks David, scritching that spot between the cat ears, and receives the most long-suffering look._

_There's always something very elegant about Qubine, even when he's just lying here, long limbs barely fitting on the sofa and his tail casually draped over his own legs._

_David's back at the cat cafe, sitting on the same sofa. Instead of Duke, he has Qubine's head in his lap. Qubine is lying curled on his side, using David's legs as a pillow, and his grey, tufty ears twitch a little when David plays with them. It's so cute it's almost unbearable._

_David's hand moves down, first to softly scratch Qubine's chin, and then his neck, pushing the collar up so that David could get to the skin underneath. Qubine purrs faintly, and doesn't complain when David's hand sneaks under the t-shirt he's wearing to tickle his chest. The black tip of his tail quivers._

_Then Qubine gets up, fluidly like the most graceful of things, so that he can straddle David's lap. David doesn't move, suddenly aware of the fact that he wants Qubine, so much so that he can't think about anything else. David wants to hold him, tell him how incredible he is, how much he is loved. And if he'll allow it, kiss him, touch him, penetrate him, make him writhe and moan with pleasure._

_Qubine leans in to nuzzle the nape of David's neck._

_That's too close. Too much. It's just a friendly gesture but it's too much for David. "I don't think we should..."_

_He feels lips pressed against his skin, smiling. There are hands on the front of his trousers, working on the fastening._

_"Oh, I think you do." The distinct sound of a fly being unzipped. Qubine murmurs, as his hand cups David's arousal, "and so do I."_

_The long tail swishes, drawing an arc in the air and then coming to rest on David's good arm, as if to reassure David that he does know what he is doing._

_"I..."_

_The hand moves, slipping past underwear to stroke David properly, and David draws a shuddering breath._

_"Do you want to fuck me, David? I know you want to fuck me."_

_"No I... I want to make love to you."_

_Movement. Qubine shifts, just enough so that he can rest his forehead against David's. Then he lets their lips touch. David can feel his smile again._

_"I think you should."_

_Wait a second._

_No. This isn't something Qubine would do. Not the Qubine he knows. The sexual approach may be possible, he can't say for sure. But Qubine doesn't smile like this, doesn't use physical gestures of reassurance. And he would never talk like that. This isn't like him at all._

_"And I have cat ears and a tail right now." Qubine says, as if he's read David's mind. His breath brushes against David's skin, warm and moist. "Does it really matter?"_

David jolts awake.

The room is dark. The clock tells him it's almost time to get ready for breakfast. His body tells him he's ready for something else.

He rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling, images of (cat?) Qubine still in his head, and uncomfortably hard between his legs.

_Really, body? Really? That's what you want? You must be joking. Please tell me you're joking._

Oh, he can die of shame right about now.

What's worse, dreaming of Qubine like that or the possibility that he might still not be over the man yet?

It's too late to try to get back to sleep. He should... maybe go for a run before breakfast. Find things to do to expend some energy and distract himself.

With dramatic determination, he throws back the blanket, sits up and plugs his arm back in. His phone is flashing with a message, so he takes a look.

**R:** Hey so if we get to hang out before you go let's do that cat cafe? It looks awesome!

David nearly throws his phone at the wall.

No. No more cat cafes ever again.

Ever!


	19. Chapter 19

This _sucks_.

It turns out that David is guest lecturing but only for the cadets who came through the elite programme, everyone else has to do additional flight simulations and other stuff instead. And he's only here for less than a week.

Damn, Rush would love to sit through David's lectures. Partly because it'd be hilarious (pull faces at the Dave-the-lecturer until he snaps, yes!) and partly because it'd be so cool. And he's so curious about what David has to teach.

And Rush isn't the only person who's disappointed. A charismatic young captain who's on active duty is here, but not everyone gets to meet him? That's just plain unfair. The way the younger cadets talk during lunch about the lecture they've just had, too, that really rubs it in. They practically have stars in their eyes.

Towards late afternoon of the first day, it is Baulson who leads a few others to have a word with the major and express everyone's desire to sit in Captain David's lectures too. Flight simulations are great, but they can do it any time; the simulators are always there and always on for anyone with a few minutes to spare. The ex-vice-captain of the Umbermarici, on the other hand, is only here for a few days. The major says she'll think about it.

In the evening, Rush opts to do some drills whereas a bunch of others are at the simulators — someone's set up a tournament, he's heard — and afterwards hauls himself to the cafeteria. The place is usually quiet at night except when it's cards night, but it's rather noisy when he arrives.

There David is, in his Valeria Heart uniform, surrounded by the younger cadets who all seem kind of mesmerised by his presence. And who can blame them? David used to be one of them, he's proof that the system does work and they can get far. If these kids don't idolise him then there's something wrong with them. Besides, David is really attractive. Rush hasn't seen him for a few months and has sort of forgotten how magnetic he is in person. And here's a bunch of youngsters, some of whom are mitras, at the height of puberty. Maybe David is their first crush.

Rush gets himself a vigorbean milk and a chair to collapse in before getting his phone out. He stares at it for a bit, then decides to put it away and turn around instead.

"Someone's popular."

"Rush." David seems happy to see him. Looking between them, the young cadets quiet down a bit.

"Sir." Suddenly Rush remembers he ought to at least make a vague attempt to acknowledge David's superiority here, and sits up better. "You aren't the pied piper right? We love our kids you know, you aren't taking them away."

"I do know. In fact I've been asking how the two generations are getting on," David nods at a yellow-skinned yama, "and everyone only has nice things to say about it."

"That's just because we promised a beating if they didn't say that."

"I thought that might be the case." David snickers. "Though, looking at you, I do wonder if you'll end up being on the receiving end of a beating instead."

"Just done one too many sets of the drills exercise, sir. I'm fine."

Rush is going to pay for this tomorrow. Are there physical training sessions? He hopes not. There shouldn't be. But Rush checks anyway, touching the screen of his army-issued watch to look at the timetable.

Huh, there's an update.

"Hey! We get to go to your lecture tomorrow?" Wow, asking for it actually worked?

"So I heard. I didn't realise anyone else might be interested."

"Come on, Dave—" Shit. Ah shit. "I mean, of course, sir! This is mint!"

Across two tables, David tips his head to one side and smiles at Rush, and it's that familiar, genuinely amused smile, not the I'm-at-work version, but the one that makes Rush all warm and fuzzy inside. There's a gasp, someone mentions something that they heard happened yesterday, and five seconds later the young cadets clock on to the fact that Captain David and Rush know each other from before and are actual friends.

Rush is probably going to hate this later but right now he has to admit that he does feel kind of cool. Actually this is probably going to be fine as long as no one finds out that they once nearly made out on Torgal's ship... nah, who's he kidding, they weren't going to just make out.

And then the questions come: _sir, you two know each other?_ "We've been friends for some time." (Coming up to a year now, Rush thinks. Although it feels way longer than that.) _How did you meet?_ "Rush's family runs an excellent restaurant, I've been there a couple of times." (Yup, stick to the script.) _He's never told us about you._ "I guess he doesn't want to look like he has connections... either that or he's ashamed of me. Rush, which is it?"

"Yeah," Rush shoots his friend a halfhearted glare, "totally ashamed of you. Get out of my camp!"

"Try talking to me like that in class."

Ha, look at that smirk. "I'm not as stupid as I look, you know. This face is just to make people let their guard down."

That draws a collective "aww". This is a bit weird, all these eyes staring at him like they're trying to decipher what kind of friendship it is that he and David has. Or maybe he's just being oversensitive. Anyhow, this is getting uncomfortable, Rush decides, and he should get out of here.

He lifts himself from the chair. Wow he really has done too many sets, and forgot to do a proper cooldown. "Anyway. I reek and need a shower. See you guys tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow — don't be late."

"Yessir!"

 

For the captain of a ship that does the sort of work the Valeria Heart does, and of course the previous vice-captain of a major battleship, David supposes he is considered very young. The fact is, however, it has been some ten years since he left the Training Regiment, and it feels like a lifetime ago. And talking to the elites is making him feel particularly old. The littlest ones are just fourteen, literally children. Whose idea was it to recruit children, David wants to ask — and can probably find out if he tries — though clearly it works, he himself having come through the same system before.

But exactly because he'd done it himself, he knows there are gaps in the training, things that unfortunately are just too hard to fit into the syllabus, as it were. After all, this is a facility to train army officers, it's not the school of life. David had graduated thinking he knew all he ever needed to know: how to work as a team, how to fly a ship, how to fight. But it turned out he knew very little about anything else.

There are skills, and then there are life skills. David can't hope to teach these cadets himself, but he can prod them in the right direction.

He's got through the main material he's supposed to show — it doesn't really feel like he has _taught_ the cadets anything they don't already know — without too much of a hitch. Rush has been listening to people talk afterwards, and he messages David about it. The feedback through this channel is so overwhelmingly positive David is sure Rush is either lying or at least not telling him everything, which just means he hasn't performed up to expectation. After the unexpected level of interest at the start, this is disheartening; he does want to get this right, although he's only a last-minute substitute and has never taught like this before.

Still, he's holding one more session on his last evening here, outside the timetable. He's told the cadets about it at the end of the previous session: it's going to be an informal chat where he'll try to talk about a few things he couldn't cover in earlier lectures. In truth the topics he wants to raise are not strictly army-related and he can't legitimately use class time for them.

He gets to the room a few minutes early, holding a vacuum flask full of tea, and Rush and a few other cadets arrive at about the same time.

"You're early."

Rush plonks himself down on a seat near the front. "Gotta make sure I get a seat."

It's an optional thing and it's after dinner, David isn't as optimistic about the attendance as Rush is. "Well, you will just have to watch me drink tea for the next ten minutes." He perches on the desk up front and pours himself a drink.

"Oh my god what they say about Athlumians is true," Rush comments, and the other cadets try not to laugh, but only until David laughs first. 

"Also I thought I'd attempt to look the part as a lecturer."

"Even with your vacuum flask you aren't not going to look like an old man any time soon."

Leucetius, the only sovani in the regiment this year, speaks up. "You won't look like Major-General Wagram, sir."

The mention of the name nearly makes David cringe. "You've met him?"

"We have, sir, right at the beginning of the programme."

The poor kids. "How did you find him?"

The cadet clams up. David isn't surprised.

"Scary beyond all reason?" he suggests, and Leucetius nods frantically, along with the others. "He is... very good at his job." That's pretty much the only good thing David has to say about Wagram. "During my early days on the Umbermarici I got sent to him a lot for extra training. I learned a lot, but I was constantly black-and-blue. Once or twice I had to go to the medical bay. And no I don't know how old he is, before you ask."

The man has managed to pull some trick and got his year of birth erased from the register. Or maybe it's some kind of in-joke he has with HR.

Rush raises his hand, probably out of habit since they're in a classroom. "Extra training?"

"I played Band of Champions with the then second-in-command a lot. Every time I lost he threw me to the wolves."

To this day, David still has not won a single game against Qubine, so he hasn't tried to call the man "fun-sized" again.

Actually he really doesn't want to be reminded of Qubine right now. His feelings are too complicated and his shame is still too strong. _Qubine seducing him while he has cat ears on his head. Oh god. What kind of a dream was that?_

The conversation ends here anyway, since the rest of the cadets are arriving. Rush grins up at David, either because he's thinking about how David always loses at board games or that there are far more people attending the session than expected. Luckily it turns out this is one of the rooms with movable walls, so they can expand the room and there are enough seats in the end.

David feels a little dumbfounded. Maybe Rush hasn't been sugarcoating the feedback from his peers?

He puts his tea aside, goes to shut the door and returns to perch on the desk.

"This is my last full day here, and I want to talk about the things you'll need to learn. I can't teach them to you, and you won't learn them here, but you need to pick them up, somehow.

"This is supposed to be informal, so if you have questions just ask at any point, don't wait until the end. But put your hand up first because there are two hundred of you.

"First of all: you've all passed your tests to fly prismic and damascene-class ships." A general nod from the cadets. "But put your hand up if you have a driving licence. For a car."

About two-thirds of the hands go up, and all the young ones have their arms down, as expected. They're too young to drive.

"Keep your hand up if you can drive stick. A _manual_ car."

Most of the hands go down. David does a count: four. That's better than he thought; there is no need for someone from Celapaleis or her moons to know how to drive manual transmission. In big cities where parking space is limited and public transport links are everywhere, some don't even bother learning to drive at all.

"Don't be the one who can fly ships across space but can't get from A to B on the ground. Before you graduate, learn to drive. You can do it during your home break. Back on Athlum there's a special arrangement for military personnels who're below the minimum legal age for driving, so check if you can do it here."

"Sir." Leucetius raises his hand. David nods at him to continue. "Why did you ask about manual cars?"

"Because they're the only choice on some planets." David sips his tea. "If you end up on a large ship, she might have vehicles onboard that you can deploy after you land, but that's not guaranteed. Or she might have personal transporters, but if the locals don't use PT you'll stick out. Instructors who teach manual are hard to find but if you do find one, absolutely go for it. Also learn how the change a tyre and how to fill up a petrol tank. More places still use petrol than you think."

Near the front, Rush has something to say. "Sounds like there's a story behind this, sir."

David arches a single eyebrow at that cheeky grin. "Not much of a story, I learned to drive at sixteen but couldn't drive manual until much later." He raises his eyes so that he's talking to everyone again. "Someone else had had to do the driving when we were chasing down some traffickers in a tunnel network at a place called Yvalock. There was also once when I had to rely on a sovani to do the driving at a predominantly mitra area. We put a hat on him... he wasn't happy."

He can hear Rush laughing into his hands. His own lips twitch, too; that happened back when they were on the Umbermarici but even now, thinking about the time Torgal wore a hat still makes David want to giggle like a child.

No more comments from the cadets. David carries on. "On that note, another life skill: learn to cook. Know how to make at least three basic meals and one fancier meal. It might or might not be useful at work but it'll be useful for life in general, you can really impress someone, for example. Ask Rush for pointers if you need help."

"Hey!"

"You mean 'yes sir, happy to share my knowledge', right?" Rush is rolling his eyes now. David just smiles wider.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

The question is coming from a blushing young mitra boy. "Have... have you been impressed by Rush's cooking?"

The class falls silent — everybody knows what's really being asked. Rush whips around and locates the boy. "Dude!" he shouts across the room.

David hopes he's recovered quickly enough that nobody notices how mortified he was for just a second. He puts his hands on the desk and leans back on them a bit. "His mother's was better."

There's a second between the answer and class descending into fits of laughter.

Rush turns around again to glare at David instead. "Dude!"

"That's 'sir' to you, cadet," David can't help himself but say.

"Sir!" Rush narrows his eyes and says in exactly the same tone as before. "You did not just make that joke!"

David tips his head gently to one side. "It's true though."

Rush's answer is to plant his face into his hands.

"On that topic." David waves to get some attention back from the class. "Be careful with your relationships with your fellow officers. Being in the Intergalactic Army isn't a day job, even if you're on a short-range vessel you still have to live with each other. Maybe there'll be someone you can't stand, or someone you fall in love with. No matter how you feel, be considerate and think about the rest of the crew. And," he sips his tea again and pours another cup, "I hate to state the obvious but don't have casual flings with your fellow officers, these things never end well and it gets uncomfortable for everyone."

"Is there a story behind this, sir?" Someone at the back shouts, David can't see who.

"Not personally. Sorry to disappoint." And thank god for that. "Put your hand up if you want to ask something next time.

"Another thing about relationships: there's this notion younger people have about 'owning' friends, and how other people might 'steal' their friends. That's an entirely stupid idea, don't buy into it. Stay in touch with friends and family on the ground, and introduce your friends to each other so that you make more friends. Expand your social circles, keep meeting people, care about them and let them care about you. You want there to be people excited about when you next go home or when you next stop on their planet.

"This is particularly true for you," David nods at the elites who are sitting mostly together as a little group. "Your world is very much the army now. Maybe when you talk to your friends from school they just seem too different from you; you can't understand their lives, and they certainly can't understand yours. You might even think they're juvenile. But don't lose touch with the world you've joined the army to protect. When you're back on the ground for two months after spending a year on a ship, and all your colleagues just want to see anyone except each other, the last thing you want is to realise that you're all alone."

He waits — no questions, no one even asks if there is a story, if he is speaking from personal experience. Perhaps it's obvious enough.

David had worked hard, too, to keep the few civilian friends he did have. But they were all connected with his ex-partners and when that relationship went sour... he isn't sure, looking at it now, if he stopped talking to them or if it was the other way around. It doesn't matter either way since he doesn't miss them, but he does miss having friends planet-side,

To help lighten things up, David switches topic and tells the cadets to learn from one another, and never overlook a small skill. There was once, years ago, when he visited a community with Qubine as a gesture of diplomacy between them and the local law enforcement. It was traditional for their people to wear a full head of braids. Neither Qubine nor David could braid anything to save their lives, so Torgal did their hair, one very neat braid each in recognition of the tradition but without attempting to replicate it. Their extra little mark of respect was complimented upon, and the meeting went very well.

Some time later, while assisting the Luhang government's fight against military insurgents, David came across a teenager who was injured, and her mother quite badly so. She could not be consoled — her mother's hair had come loose. She never wore it loose, and the girl was convinced it was a bad omen, but her hands were too bloodied to do anything about it. Recalling how Torgal did it before, David braided the mother's hair right there and then, as other people performed first aid. It made a difference — the girl calmed down so that she could receive treatment.

"Knowledge and skills come in useful sometimes when you don't expect it. Perhaps one of you know how to pick an old-fashioned lock. Maybe you sail and know how to tie different types of knots. Or you can juggle. Don't forget those skills. Teach each other and find new things to learn if you can." David sees Rush's hand coming up. "Yes Rush, I am essentially saying 'go and learn everything'. It's actually not a terrible way to spend time when making long journeys across the solar system."

"No I was gonna ask," Rush keeps his hand up, "was that... _younger_ Captain Qubine who got his hair braided or..."

This session is certainly turning informal, but not quite the way David intended originally. "He used his real age appearance for the meeting."

The answer causes quite a murmuring amongst the cadets. But of course. The captain is a Celapaleian just like most of them. He commands one of the most important ships in the fleet while using his gefyrian ability to stay looking like a child, but is actually beautiful beyond words in a way even non-mitras recognise. If these young men and women aren't fascinated by him then there is something wrong with them.

Someone raises their hand. "Why?"

"Why...?"

"Why is he neotenised all the time?"

"I can't speak for him." And it isn't "all the time", but David doesn't wish to explain. "But I can tell you why he didn't for the meeting: because it'd have been considered a direct insult where we were. In a city like this you're used to each other's customs and traditions, and even as different races you share common cultures as Celapaleians. But, take mitras for example, xiphosians on Celapaleis and xiphosians on Athlum share some similarities with their traditions, but they're not the same. Xiphosians on Melphina are different again, but in other ways.

"Also, as another example, did you know that there are so far three races recorded who are predominantly intersex? The gefyrians, the giants, and the albics. Albics can self-fertilise, gefyrians and giants can't. Albics don't have genders. Giants have five common genders — I'm not joking. Get this wrong when you're on Nordenalm and you'll start fights, whereas giants from Sudenalm would just laugh and tell you to educate yourself.

"As for gefyrians, they usually have gender identities similar to other mitras. There are more and more of them living on other planets and moons now, not just on Undelwalt. Five percent of the mitras in this class are gefyrians, in fact. Just remember that you may think they're strange, but they also think other mitras are strange for not having both sets of equipment.

"But ask yourself this: what do you know about gefyrians apart from that they are universal blood donors, they can neotenise and they have more fun in bed?"

Those are the things people always think about when talking about gefyrians. Few know that they are the opposite of xiphosians, being physically the weakest of the mitra races. For example, if David arm-wrestled Qubine he could easily win and hurt Qubine's arm in the process. But any injury would heal quickly, so David wouldn't have to feel guilty for too long. Gefyrians are also usually capable of prolonged periods of concentration, which, when used with the right combination of skills, can make them quite frightening people.

"It's wrong and sometimes dangerous to make assumptions based purely on someone's race or where they're from; you might know less about their race or their home than you think you do. And there are many things that play major parts in people's behaviour, including but not limited to biology, racial, national and planetary cultures, and religion. Sometimes these can change rapidly, especially at developing or politically unstable areas, and some races are so secretive that we don't know much about them yet. On the intranet there is a wiki that's constantly being updated and you should consult it each time you land. Never assume what you know is the most current information. Ignorance as an excuse won't always save your hide."

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"What if there isn't much information?"

"Then assume the people you are meeting is very smart, and very good looking," says David, and that makes the cadets smile. "I'm serious. They might be very attractive to their own people. Use a small amount of flattery. If you're worried about getting it wrong then praise their diligent officers, their great food, something that obviously involved hard work. Doing this helped me a few times, I'm sure it'll help you as well."

The class nods. If they end up with a good captain, this is something they'll be reminded of again in the future. But there are a few David have heard of who are... not bad captains, just less sensitive. They care less about these things. As a result, Wyngale's ship is often sent on nuke missions because central command knows that the captain and his crew aren't capable of dealing with situation that requires any amount of delicate handling.

David checks the time. Hmm, better carry on.

"The next bit of advice I have for you is: buy a house. I know it sounds like something you don't need to consider, perhaps you want to work on the Umbermarici and live on a ship 90% of the time, and you don't have the money for real estate anyway, you can just stay with family when you're back on the ground. And that's a perfectly acceptable arrangement, but it might not be acceptable after five, ten years when you're too old to still live with your parents or you want to get married and have your own home. I know people who haven't thought about it for years and then all of a sudden they realise they need to buy a house, but they've never saved a single g because they're watered and fed on the ship and watered and fed when they live with family, they never felt like they needed some savings for the future.

"It's hard to rent when you're only around a few weeks at a time, you end up using the cheap but fairly basic army accommodation or suffering tourist rates for serviced apartments. But if you've saved up, you can buy a place and when you're not around, you're renting it out to the tourists instead.

"At some point you will want a place to call home. Even if you rise through the ranks, take Qubine's job and have his suite on the Umbermarici, you'll still want a place that's _yours_ when you're back on the ground. You can fill it up with your things, you can have it however you like, invite friends over or enjoy some peace and quiet in your own space."

David can keep talking about this, but he hopes they get the idea. For him, he was lucky to have Torgal, who drilled it into his head that he needed to save money and buy a place. In so many ways, he is lucky to have met Torgal. It's true that David would still have both arms intact if they hadn't met, but his life would so much less smooth, less comfortable, less _everything_ that if the opportunity came to rewind time and start again, he would still rather lose an arm and have Torgal in his life.

His own, soon-to-be-sold home is no longer ideal for him because of memories of the previous relationship, but it has served him well. And he intends to replace it with a better one. Maybe once he's done that, he would be in a better place in his head where it comes to relationships, too.

He can see the older ones of the cadets nodding in agreement, whilst some others just look a bit overwhelmed by the idea of planning so far into the future. He hopes he hasn't lost them entirely since there's one more item related to the future that he wants them to think about.

Actually, this might be the right time to show the recording.

"I want to show you a video. It's footage recorded during Beyond Undelwalt, specifically the Battle of Castellum. There is a reason why I want to show you this, but I'm sure I won't need to explain." Pushing himself off the desk, David walks around it to get to the video controls. "Meanwhile, I'm going to take a bathroom break after drinking all that tea."

The footage he's preloaded onto the system comes on on the screen behind him, and he leaves the room.

He doesn't want to watch it.

 

Beyond Undelwalt was the most recent war the Intergalactic Army had fought in, everyone knows that. Rush knows about all of the specific battles because he's a geek, but the name "Castellum" should ring a bell even for those who are not. Then the brief explanation at the start of the video reminds them: Castellum is the dwarf planet which is being used to test terraforming techniques, and for a time it was frequently discussed on TV. Enemy forces aimed to take Castellum for strategic purposes and had they succeeded, the war would have dragged out for much longer.

Although battle footage isn't used so much during the earlier stages of training, this isn't the first time for the cadets to watch some. This one looks no different from the others, shot using body cameras which are part of the uniform, and is accompanied by the sound feed of the officer. There is no other datafeed; either that's all there is or it's been left out for this video.

It's a land battle, the format of which hasn't changed over the centuries, only the technology used. It's strange to watch without a lecturer talking over it and explaining what is going on or why particular strategies are being adopted. In the video, it is daytime and rain is coming down in sheets, and Rush can just about work out that the officer whose camera he's watching from is in a union of eight — mostly mitras, plus two qsitis and, wow, four arms, that's a sovani — which is rapidly advancing. The officer cusses, whispering under his breath about how much he hates the rain, and someone else replies with a hint of laughter in his voice, asking if there's actually anything the officer doesn't hate.

It's David's voice. Rush's lips part in slight surprise just as another one of the officers turns around and it's actually his friend. Rain bounces off his half-helmet and runs off his waterproof uniform, washing away some of the mud that's covering it. His face is also covered in sweat and soot and soil and... stuff. This is 200% unlike the David Rush knows, whose hair is always perfect, who commands Valeria Heart in a pristine uniform, who apparently goes to cat cafes.

"Come on. We pull this off, and we'll be home before new years," says David, who gives the officer a firm slap on the shoulder. He looks exhausted. "We're pushing on."

Now Rush also realises the sovani officer must be Torgal. Everyone is moving. There's obviously a detailed plan in place and they know where they need to go. On the sound David is reporting his union's status, then someone shouts, and gunfire is exchanged, and they move again. The camera swings wildly, it looks like the officer has slipped on mud, and then it becomes apparent that he has just dived for cover. When he turns around, David and Torgal are taking down the enemy, David tackling a mitra and throwing them over his shoulder, and Torgal then shooting them, the whole thing so smooth it's like a scene from a martial arts film.

 _Show off_ , Rush thinks even as he and all his classmates gasp. God. He knows David is awesome, he's got to be, but seeing the guy fight with his own eyes is putting that in better perspective. Honestly if it was Rush he would be relying on his gun and would never have thought about using a physical tackle like that. Guess this is what David wants the cadet to see, that he isn't just all talk. Now they should know to take him seriously.

But the video doesn't end here. The union moves forward until it's near the gate to a what looks like a warehouse, then David tells the command centre that he is ready. On the sound feed, someone says that they have hacked the gate's controls. Once it's opened David's union can execute the action. Cover fire is ready.

David acknowledges the command. His voice sounds stiff, probably from the cold.

The gate opens. The union storms in and for a while all that's shown on the screen is the officer turning around, looking in every direction in anticipation of an ambush. Each time there is the slightest movement afar, shots are fired from behind the officer, removing the threat.

They reach a door, which apparently has also been unlocked. Cautiously they enter, ready for any resistance, taking down a couple of people who have been waiting inside. They stay near the door, scanning the room with equipment and with their eyes, then repeat at the next room. Then suddenly David shouts.

"OUT! EVERYONE OUT!"

Questions are obviously for later. They run for it, the camera showing the officer heading for the exit.

Then the sound cuts out. The screen cuts out.

In the classroom, no one makes a sound. Rush covers his mouth with a hand. Something has happened, but what?

The video comes back on. Everything looks dark at first, then the officer scrambles to stand up, and adjusts his helmet. There's no sound from the scene anymore. Perhaps the equipment has broken upon impact.

There is a lot of smoke. Something's on fire. It seems like people are still backing their way out of the building. Once the officer is out, vision becomes much clearer, and the video shows a fierce battle being fought outside the warehouse.

Rush finds himself counting the number of people leaving the building. In the next half minute, most of the union is accounted for, except for two people.

"Where are Dave and Torgal?" he whispers under his breath.

He doesn't know why he's even worried. Of course they're okay, this is a recording and David's just been telling everyone to buy a house a few minutes ago. Torgal's probably at home polishing the hull of the Brionac.

Then, on the screen, two more people step out of the smoking building. It's David, who is being supported by Torgal. His helmet is gone, his face is slightly dipped, but when people rush towards him he smiles and shakes his head. The officer with the camera goes around to the other side of him.

The class gasps again.

So much blood. All down one side of David, a vivid red. For a second it's hard to tell where all that blood is coming from, but once Rush sees it—

A lot of people in the classroom scream. Rush screams.

He doesn't think he can ever unsee this scene.

David's right arm is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, thanks for all the comments so far! I do read them I just suck at replying...


	20. Chapter 20

David checks the time. He knows exactly how long the video clip is, and even if he doesn't, he can hear the cadets scream.

He opens his sleeve using the zipper that runs along it, then folds it up all the way to the socket. He unplugs his prosthetic arm and, holding it, he returns to the classroom.

"Ta-da."

There are gasps. Some people are swearing, and then nervously laughing. And Rush is—

Ah, _shit._

Rush didn't know about the arm?

David lowers his voice, hoping that he won't be heard by the whole class. "Rush, if you'd like to—"

"It's fine, sir. Please carry on," Rush says flatly, not looking at David at all.

Perhaps carrying on is the best thing to do now. David returns to the desk in the front and sits on it again, putting his prosthetic down beside him. He speaks quietly, because he knows he has the cadets' attention.

"Okay. Look around you. Look at each other."

David waits until the cadets do look, all smiling at each other in apology for staring. The only marshall in this class, Rush, is glowing, although the light is fading fast. The cobolt qsitis, named not after the colour of their blue skin but their ancestral home Cobolt, have turned completely black. Leucetius's stance has changed, fight-or-flight has kicked in, noticeable even though he is sitting down.

"This goes back to what I was telling you about race. You're all feeling much the same emotion, but how it physically manifests is different depending on race. Sometimes better general knowledge about who you're working with is nice, so that you get on better. Sometimes knowing these things is actually critically important.

"And before I forget... marshalls don't emit bioluminescence every time they're shocked; many of them grow up learning to suppress it. I've asked Rush to do it just for your benefit, please don't think that this always happens. Am I right, Rush?"

The light on Rush's skin is almost gone, and now David can see that his eyes have become bloodshot. There is an apology David is going to have to make, but he hopes that for now, Rush will play along.

"Yeah. By the way it's really hard to do this on cue, sir. I'm not doing it again."

"I understand. Thank you." David fights down a wince. Their eyes are not meeting; instead of looking at him, Rush is staring at the space next to his ear. There's nothing David can do about Rush right now, so he pushes on.

He picks up his prosthetic arm and uses it to gesture at the screen behind him.

"Even the best-laid plans can go wrong. You might walk straight into a trap, then a bomb goes off and your face gets sliced open, your eardrums perforate and your arm flies off," David puts down the arm and lays a palm on his chest. "The rest of my injuries were mostly blunt trauma: broken ribs, dislocated joints, concussion; the shrapnel and debris could have done a lot more damage if I wasn't wearing underarmour. My helmet shattered and nearly cut my ear clean off, but if I wasn't wearing it I wouldn't even have a head left on my shoulders. That's why you should look after your gear and check it often. It really can save your life.

"And this is my last piece of advice: write a will. If the worst happened and you had no spouse or children, everything that belonged to you would go to your parents and they would have to sort it out themselves. But if you want specific people to have specific things of yours or leave some money for charity, then you need to make a will. Even if you just want your family to have everything, a will would cut down the bureaucracy they would need to go through; being prepared would be the kindest thing you could do for them at a time like that."

This is a heavy subject, but it's necessary in David's view. Someone needs to tell them.

"But, to end things on a better note, trust that the army is committed to looking after you. This arm is state-of-the-art and I haven't had to pay a single g for it. My actual arm was rescued and they're regrowing it so that it can be reattached eventually." David slots the prosthetic back and rolls the sleeve down. "I'm not the worst at combat but I have been patched up a few times. Even when I needed stitches it only took the medics half an hour to do everything, and there's no permanent damage.

"It still means you need to be careful; they haven't invented a way to bring back the dead yet, and getting hurt hurts, you've heard it here first.

"And that's all I have to say. Questions?"

Two hundred pairs of eyes stare at him in silence. It is a lot to take in, after all. David lets his gaze sweep over them, lingering on Rush just a fraction longer than he does others. There is so much ahead of all of them, ahead of Rush. David hopes he hasn't put them off. He hopes at least some of them will remember some parts of tonight for the future, then the indignity of letting them see his sorry state in that video will be worth it.

He puts the lid back on his now empty flask, then stands.

"In summary: learn to drive, learn to cook, because these are skills you'll need but the army won't teach you. Retain and make new friends because otherwise you'll regret it. Don't mess around with your colleagues because you'll absolutely regret it. Save money to buy your own home because you'll want one. Remember everyone is different and respect that difference. Write a will because that's the responsible thing to do. And look after yourselves, because I like you and I'd be upset if you got hurt.

"Thank you for coming along this evening, I hope it's been or will be helpful. I'll be in the cafeteria after this if you think of things you want to ask. Class dismissed."

 

They drive in silence. David's travel bag is in the trunk, along with his coat. Unlike the last few days, he isn't in his uniform. Rush hasn't brought a jacket, and is just wearing his uniform, like he does everyday.

David has requested for Rush to take him to the spaceport so that he can fly home, and the training camp okay-ed it. Rush did say, before they got into the car, that he didn't know Lamberro's roads at all. But that's not a problem when there is good old-fashioned satellite navigation. Steadily they get to the motorway, where Rush can put the car on the guided system and let that do the rest of the driving.

"You look like shit," he says.

David knows that, and it's because he's barely slept last night.

"I'm sorry about yesterday."

"You better fucking be."

"I didn't realise that you didn't know about my arm. I honestly haven't been deliberately hiding it; I just didn't think about it," says David, his eyes fixed on his knees. It feels like they've known each other for years, but in reality it hasn't been nearly as long as that and looking back, why would Rush know about the amputation at all? It's not something that gets brought up in conversation randomly. "But I should have thought about it and should have warned you."

"You made me glow in public, Dave."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"When was the last time you cried?"

"In public? I don't remember. When I was a child, I guess."

In private, it was much more recent than that.

"Well that's basically what you made me do, except in a more attention-grabby way. I really hate that."

David nods. Rush has never mentioned before that the bioluminescence is a personal thing for him, but he shouldn't have to state the obvious.

"I will keep apologising if necessary. I really am sorry. The shock tactic wasn't meant to hurt you."

"You made me watch a video of you _losing a limb_ , then had the gall to walk into the room, wave your fake arm in the air and say 'ta da' like that's really funny! Fucking hell! Even without my luminescence I'd be mad at you!"

"Yes. That was poorly judged," agrees David. "The arm does make a good selfie stick, though."

Rush sputters, his tirade halted by the attempt at humour again. "It's not funny!"

What else is he supposed to do, David wonders. Cry about it?

Rush turns away and leans against the door, staring out the window. David steals a look — it has been half a year since they last met on Eulam, and Rush has put on some muscle. It's not enough to show through clothing or anything like that, but David can see it from the way Rush holds himself. He's had a quick look at Rush's training records too, and Rush is doing remarkably well; one of the best mitras in his regiment, in fact. Just from his previous attempt at the elite programme and the dedication he's shown, David has always known this is going to happen, but seeing him now still makes him feel proud.

He doesn't think his opinion means much to Rush right now, but it's still worth telling him.

"You seem to be doing well; I'm really glad for you."

That gets him a sidelong look. "Don't change the topic."

David shuts up. He really doesn't know what he can say at this point.

"I'm just so mad! And I don't even know why anymore! Why did it even happen!"

"Because I walked into a trap. And it's _my arm_ , Rush. It's for me to deal with, not you."

"I know that! But I'm just so angry. Argh! If I start glowing again I swear to god I'll— do something." Rush shuffles in his seat, turning back to face David. "Where else have you got hurt before? Anything recent that I should've known about?"

To some extent, David understands where Rush is coming from. But he isn't going to make the mistake of upsetting Rush further. "I don't even tell my mother these things. Like I said last night, every injury I've ever had was patched up perfectly."

"Except your arm," Rush drawls, narrowing his eyes.

"Would you please stop being so fixated on it? Maybe I was right to not have told you after all!"

"Well that's nothing new at least; since when do you ever tell me anything anyway? I have no idea what you're thinking, how you're feel—"

"Last time I dared to mention to you how I felt _you turned around and told Qubine_."

"Yeah I did and I'm still not sorry!"

"And I'm not going to apologise for wearing a false arm."

"For fuck's sake I'm not mad at you for getting hurt! I... I'm upset because you're so damn casual about it!"

"It's been two, three years, Rush. This didn't happen yesterday. It's not a big deal to me now."

"Well I only just found out yesterday when you made me watch it!"

"God." David buries his face in a hand. The hand that feels nothing. The hand that, not just this time but always, he's being punished for. "I've agreed that it was poorly judged and apologised. If there is anything else I can do, please tell me."

Rush has to pause to think about this. "Promise me you'll tell me next time you get injured, and let me worry about it."

That's typical, coming from him. He seems to always have this need to find things to worry about. "You're not my mother," David sighs, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"I'm not, and that's why you should tell me since you won't tell her."

"Rush—"

"Last night you said, 'let your friends care about you.' Don't be a hypocrite."

Well, damn. David does believe in what he told the cadets, he just isn't used to the idea of people wanting care about him.

He thinks about the flat back in Castle he used to share with his ex-partners, thinks about his mother who still regrets having rejected him when he was younger, thinks about the years of being an elite cadet and then a young officer, always needing to prove himself. If he wants a new start, he needs to learn to think in a different way.

"Fine... fine... promise. Anything over a graze. You'll get sick of it."

He will try, anyway.

"That's not encouraging."

"I got a papercut this morning."

Rush snorts. "If I could hit you, I would."

David arches an eyebrow. "Then I would have to tell you that I got hit."

"Don't make me turn this car around, mister; I'm still angry."

For the first time today, Rush finally smiles, although it does look tight around the edges. Apology accepted, but not yet forgiven. And that's only fair. David isn't going to argue.

They spend the rest of the journey chatting about more inane things, about Valeria Heart's crew, about the training programme Rush is on. It's coming up to the half-year mark, and Rush will be able to spend some time at home soon before another half a year of training.

"Are you excited?"

"About going home? Yeah, I guess," says Rush, looking uncertain. "I was so homesick the first few weeks. It's much better now, but maybe when I leave home after the break I'll get homesick again."

Poor thing. "Maybe you'll look forward to coming back instead."

"Or both." A shrug. "I'll get used to it eventually. Were you homesick at the start?"

Oh, that's a long story, one which David rarely even mentions. He can almost feel the words of dismissal forming in his throat, and the half-lies too.

"No... I wasn't homesick at all. Actually I didn't want to leave the camp; I had some troubles at home, so when the break came I stayed at a hostel." He searches for something to stare at, and settles for the scenery outside the window, the city of Lamberro enveloped in mist. Rush is staring, presumably, and trying to decide if he should ask questions or not. Well, now that he's decided he wants to change, David should try to say a bit more. "Arianne — my birth mother — and I had a rough year when I just hit my teens. My father walked out on us... she didn't take it well, and I kept reminding her of him since I looked like him. I joined the army to get away from her."

There is a long pause. "Did she hit you?"

"Once or twice. It was mostly just words. There was a lot of screaming." And a lot of silence, and a lot of hate. "We had the rest of the family trying to help us but it got too much so I ran away anyway," David snorts softly. "The army seemed like a good idea since they'd feed me and put a roof over my head. I forged the signature on my permission form. It turned out they didn't check these things."

"Dave..."

"Actually, I'd rather not talk about it; there's no point in looking back. We're absolutely fine now, that's all that matters." David forces himself to move his gaze back to inside the car, to his friend. Rush has a hand on his arm, squeezing reassuringly, but David hasn't noticed until now. "That arm has no sensation, by the way."

Rush gawks at it. "Really? But you use it like—"

"I just learned how to use it like you learn to use a tool."

The hand shifts upwards, resting on David's shoulder instead. "Hey. I know you really don't like talking about personal stuff. So thanks for telling me."

"Hmm." David looks away again. He can't help it. "I'm not magically suddenly feeling great though."

"That theory is bullcrap. But in the long run I'm sure it's better to have talked about it."

"Perhaps." David remains unconvinced, but it's easier to be amicable.

With military clearance, they go straight to the ships with minimal delays once they arrive at the spaceport. David had flown himself over on the Kellendros, and it's odd, but he feels a bit relieved to see his ship again. And he can tell Rush is very curious, but he doesn't invite Rush inside, not even for a quick peek. Fortunately Rush doesn't ask either.

"So, I guess you're off home. Or are you going straight back to work?"

"I have shore leave for a bit longer."

"Well at least you get to rest up then." Rush scratches the back of his head. "Hey, say, my mid-year break's coming up soon. If you want to visit Eulam again you'll be very welcomed..."

"I'm afraid I can't; It'll be in the middle of a scheduled flight. But thanks for the invite."

Rush's birthday falls during the mid-year break, he doesn't mention it but David knows. It's a shame he can't be at Eulam to celebrate with him, but work is work.

"Ah, well, never mind then. Maybe another time."

"How about when you finish training? It's only another six months. And it's far ahead enough I can try to apply for leave."

"Yeah, that'd be cool."

David dips his head, smiles, and checks the time. His take-off window is coming up. They hug, David apologises again for yesterday, promises to arrange going to Eulam, and leaves.

Finally.

Finally, his own space, where he doesn't need to talk about things and can't accidentally hurt someone.

For the whole trip from training camp to spaceport he hasn't seen, even once, the easy yet enchanting smile Rush used to give him so freely.

_You're an idiot, David._


	21. Chapter 21

The whole training regiment has a crush on David now, Rush is convinced. And he doesn't know if he's become public enemy #1 or everyone's best friend because he is mates with David. In any case, the first thing he does after the replacement guest lecturer has left is set up the iris scan lock on his phone, and he changes David's name on the contact list to _Marquis_. And while he's at it, he renames Qubine _Cute-Bean_ , because why not?

For the rest of the day, Rush goes from one class to another too distracted to listen to anything, still getting used to the idea that David's arm is fake and the new knowledge that David had run away from home as a child to join the army, going as far as forging a signature to fool the authorities. It's hard to imagine David running away from anything. Sure, Rush has spent more time with him when he's not at work, and David kind of makes it look like all he does is sit in hotel lounges drinking cocktails. But Rush knows, particularly after seeing that battle footage, that David is one solid officer who still managed to walk and smile after stumbling out of a burning building with an arm missing. That sort of man doesn't run away from things.

Well, David was only fourteen when he left home. Things must have been pretty bad back then. He's grown up now, and a captain whom everyone looks up to, and that's a fact, judging by what people are saying on social media. They're supposed to give formal, anonymous feedback on all the trainers before leaving for the half-year break and Rush bets that's going to be just as glowing. But hopefully less bordering obscene — as the day went on, the tone of the posts online just got more ridiculous, it looks like people are now being weird for the sake of being weird.

He's scrolling through the tag after dinner when his phone buzzes with a message from "Cute-Bean".

**C-B:** Rush, hope you're well. I'd like to talk to you if you have time?

Uh, this is too weird. Rush renames _Cute-Bean_ to just _Q_.

**R:** Heya. Sure, I'm free. What's up?

**Q:** I've been reading the responses on David's lectures at your camp. Did anything in particular happen last night?

Qubine, reading social media stuff? Wow, that really boggles the mind. Rush would never have imagined. Wonder what he thinks about all the sparkly hearts some people are adding to their posts.

**R:** Oh he pulled his arm off.

**Q:** Why would he do that?

With a sigh, Rush gives Qubine a summary of what had happened last night.

**Q:** I see. That's unexpected.

**R:** Tell me about it! When I drove him to the spaceport I yelled at him. I didn't know about his arm before and he made me watch the footage urgh I glowed like crazy I can't believe it.

**Q:** You told him off? What was his response?

**R:** He apologised.

And then Rush pushed him to promise to talk about things, and David told Rush about having problems with his mother when he was a child. But Rush decides not to tell Qubine about that part, not this time. Betraying David's trust again would be a bad idea if he wants the guy to talk to him more.

It takes a while for Qubine's next message to arrive.

**Q:** I understand your reasoning, however I would ask you to handle the issue more delicately in the future. It's unusual for him to show weakness to anyone, to have that turned back against him is not ideal.

Rush reads the message and arches an eyebrow. That's an overreaction and a half.

**R:** It's not a weakness tho.

**Q:** It is, from his point of view. There are certain things that David is sensitive about, I appreciate that you can't tell yet; it's taken me years to learn to spot them.  
**Q:** But just remember that for future reference, don't mind it too much now, he will be fine, especially with such positive feedback.

Huh... guess he's got to trust Qubine on this one.

**R:** OK.

**Q:** Thanks. Let's stay in touch.

**R:** No prob and yeah let's.

 

"The first Siebenbur Path was discovered in 2046 by Professor Siebenbur of Quinn's University on Melphina. Siebenbur had long theorised the existence of stable wormholes..."

Qubine scrolls through his brief conversation with Rush yesterday, paying little attention to the teacher babbling away at the front; he's sat through this topic twice before and knows it fairly well. During his earlier years he used to sit through many of the classes offered on the Umbermarici, since his hadn't been allowed to go to school for several years and even if he did go the syllabus on Undelwalt didn't match the one on Celapaleis. The teachers probably think the captain wants to personally ensure teaching quality when in truth Qubine is simply here to learn. But these days he only comes to class once in a while to refresh his memory when he has time to spare. Either way, he isn't going to get into trouble for not paying attention.

_**Q:** But just remember that for future reference, don't mind it too much now, he will be fine, especially with such positive feedback._

He stares at his own words. Given David's personality, it's hard to imagine him voluntarily showing people that he is wearing a prosthetic, but perhaps it's easier doing so in front of those who didn't know him before. But to be yelled at for it — although Rush had a good reason — was like a cat exposing his soft belly in a rare display of trust and affection, only to be kicked right in it.

Qubine doesn't know what to do about it. Sending him to the cadets was supposed to give him a boost after the incident in which Emmy, his best fledging officer, became injured. The cadets reacted positively to him just as expected, but Qubine hadn't thought the whole experience would end with David being shouted at for a racial matter when he's usually so keen to learn about other cultures and careful about the related issues.

Knowing how critical David is of himself, his entire focus must be on that now, rather than on his success. So despite Qubine's assurance to Rush, of course David is not fine. 

Damn. Rush was supposed to help, not create a different problem.

An email icon comes up at the top of Qubine's phone screen. He's already distracted, it seems like there is no point in staying in the classroom, so he leaves quietly before opening the message.

It's from management. Captain Qubine's recommendation has proven sound — Training Regiment on Celapaleis has reported a good morale boost following Captain David's visit. Management sends their thanks to Qubine and will of course congratulate David separately.

As a sidenote, Qubine might like to know that David will be requested to do the same again for the Training Regiment on Athlum before his next flight.

Hmm. Using people wherever they can, that's management, Qubine is not surprised in the slightest.

He answers the email: _But that would take up the rest of Captain David's shore leave._

Management's reply to that comes swiftly, for once. _We are aware, and he will be compensated. We need more people of his calibre._

Hint hint. Qubine nearly rolls his eyes. He knows what the management is referring to — there are now two other ships participating in the trial started by the Valeria Heart, but neither is nearly as successful. It is true that the whole thing was conceived by Qubine and then he found the best man for the job, but it's not like he can just magic up more Davids.

Anyway. That's not Qubine's problem even though management tries to dress it up like it is. Right now his main concern is David. Well, Athlum wants David's help, so if Qubine puts this across at just the right angle... David usually responds well to humour and sarcasm... hmm...

Ah. Qubine knows just what to do.

He looks around. Not in public. He better go back to his own room for this.

 

Sometimes known as "the twins", Celapaleis and Athlum take the same amount of time to orbit once around the Sun, and the two planets are nearly always the same distance — a rather short one in terms of space travel — from each other, a phenomenon not observed anywhere else in this solar system. Because of this, and the fact that flight paths for travelling between the two planets are well-established, it is possible for David to fly the Kellendros from one planet to another entirely on autopilot. He likes flying, though, so he is doing most of it himself, using autopilot only when he needs to rest.

Flying full throttle, it will only takes another couple of days for David to get home, which leaves him a week before the Valeria Heart's next task: ferrying Athlumian officials to Congress on Elysion Space Station. It's that time of year again. It's hard to believe it's already been a year since the Valeria Heart got a stowaway in the form of Rush.

Rush.

Things are okay between them, David is quite sure. But he's disappointed in himself for having made the blunder to start with.

It's been one disappointment after another, this year. Good things happened — he'd met Rush, went on holiday with Qubine, kept his family happy, completed a few difficult missions — but somehow it still feels like his life is stagnating and many things are going wrong.

Thinking about it, somewhere in the back of his head David has known for some time that this is the case, but it was meeting Rush that showed him how it's really dragging him down.

He can keep on blaming the loss of his arm and his partners for his sorry state, but that's not going to get him anywhere, is it?

Well. He hopes by the time he landed back on Athlum his flat would already have a buyer and he would need to pack up and find somewhere to live. It'd be a new start. Not that he knows what to do next — what does he want from his life? As a teenager, it was to graduate cadet training with a respectable record. As an officer on the Umbermarici, it was to get noticed, to work his way up the hierarchy, to give the commanding officer his full support. As a man, it was to be a good partner to his boyfriends, someone who made them happy.

Now, perhaps his career goal should be to nurture the officers on the Valeria Heart. As for his life off the ship... no, he doesn't know what he wants. He can afford his own home. He even has his own private ship. Perhaps a relationship is the natural next step but it'll come when, or if, it comes, these things can't be forced. And frankly, he's too afraid to try. Growing up in the army can do that to someone. Spending so much of one's life on a ship that only docked a few weeks a year can do that to someone. He'd spent too long perfecting the impression that he wasn't seriously interested, that if he flirted it was only for laughs, that he wasn't stupid enough to get involved with a colleague. And now he doesn't know how to approach anyone anymore. Looking back, it's a wonder he ever managed to have had partners.

Maybe that was why they chose that other man over him. Maybe he didn't make them feel loved enough.

He's too afraid to try. He's afraid of failing, afraid of being rejected again.

Never mind. He'll work out what he wants from his life eventually.

Or is all this sitting around planning, working things out — putting money aside for his home, reviewing his will every year — what's choking the air out of his life?

Maybe he should try to be more spontaneous?

_"You're not the impulsive sort of guy usually, I guess..."_

Wasn't that what Rush said that time when they were on the Brionac? Impulse isn't necessarily a bad thing. David just needs to make sure it's not the sort of impulse that made him climb on top of a marshall and tried to kiss him, while he was being shown the Blessing.

What an odd memory that was...

A small chime brings David's thoughts back to the present. Still reclined in his seat — he's taking a break and there are rooms, but he doesn't see the point in using them when he's by himself — he gets his phone out of his pocket and sees that an email from work has arrived.

Management sends their thanks and congratulations on Captain David's successful lectures. The training camp on Athlum would like to invite him to do the same there in three days' time. A schedule is attached.

Good grief. He isn't even back on the planet yet. What a slave driver.

Then again, if what he read yesterday on the forums was true, then his talks were actually well-received and considered useful. It wouldn't be right to not at least do the same for his own planet's cadets. It would mean actually working all the way through this shore leave, but it's not hard work, just time consuming. Same for ferrying people to Congress, really. As army work goes, these are the most relaxed and safest tasks there can be.

He reads the email again. Just as they did for his time on Celapaleis, they would pay him a trainer's salary pro-rata and compensate the days lost by adding them to his annual leave allowance.

They are trying to sound fair or maybe even generous, but David knows how these things always go: he'll be lucky if he's allowed to take the days off at a time of his own choosing. Even after being on Eulam last time, he still has around three whole months of time built up. At some point Human Resources is going to panic and offer to buy those days off him or force him to go on holiday but not let him choose when.

Of course, it's not like he hasn't done the same before, having forced Torgal to take some time off last year. But he's worked closely with Torgal for years, he knows what the man needs and he had consulted the rest of the crew first. He doesn't see people as mere numbers the way HR does.

He writes back and negotiates. He did say he will try to visit Eulam again when Rush finishes training, he might as well use leverage when he has some: if HR would give him that period off then he would do another round of talks.

That done, David puts the phone aside and goes back to trying to sleep again, and not to think about Rush and what happened on the final night on Celapaleis.

They are fine. Rush wouldn't have invited him to visit Eulam again otherwise. He even cared about what happened between David and his mother all those years ago.

He shouldn't have talked about it. The whole thing is in the past, why let anyone know about it now? He doesn't want anyone to think badly of his mother; it's not as if Arianne isn't tortured enough by her own conscience already. David can't think of any reason why she and Rush would ever meet, fortunately. And even if they met, Rush is a considerate person, there is nothing David needs to worry about...

His phone is ringing.

It's always like this. No one sends him a message for days, and then suddenly he gets all the emails and phonecalls at the same time, even the appointment reminder from his dentist, dispatch confirmation for the birthday gift he got Rush, everything.

He better take that.

The caller ID says it's Qubine. David wonders what it is this time; Qubine doesn't do random phone calls. "Hello."

" _Too cool, yet too hot. Is this real life? Or is this just fantasy?_ "

What?

That is Qubine's voice — young Qubine, specifically — but what he's just said makes no sense.

" _I wish I was that teacup OMG please touch me with your lips._ "

"Qubi—"

" _Is there supposed to be 1 person u r allowed to like without having to question ur sexuality, cos I've found him._ "

"Have you smoked something weird? What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm just reading the posts on the 'CptDvd' tag on that anonymous board." The child voice that replies is totally nonchalant. " _Sparkly heart #YesIwould Sparkly heart_ "

David sputters.

" _#CptDvd reminded me that I need to calibrate my giant gun. #LookingAfterMyEquip_

" _Heart heart heart Just want to be in his arm..._ " Qubine's voice wavers here, hesitating, " _...meow_? Is that like the sound of a cat? Why would they say meow in a sentence?"

"I don't know." Suddenly reminded of his dream of Qubine with cat ears and tail, David just wants to bury himself in a hole. "Please just stop."

"You seem particularly disturbed by the 'meow'?"

"I'm disturbed by the whole thing."

"But they are so fond of you: _Always willing to lend him a hand at the cockpit. Wink._ "

"Two things. First: it's too disturbing to hear you say those things with that voice," though David knows that's the point of the exercise. "Second: you're making this up. There was nothing like that when I looked online yesterday."

"There wasn't," says Qubine. "This tag is new; I suppose things escalated over the past day. I am not making anything up. This is with my profanity filter on, by the way. Should I turn it off and see what shows up?"

"NO." Right, if it's all real then clearly the cadets are just turning it into a joke now. Still, they're kids in his eyes and he doesn't need to know what fantasies they have in their heads that involve him, even for laughs.

"Well, aren't you just made of fun..." A short laugh is followed by a pause. "Oh... perhaps you're right, you don't want to read these... but how about this one, it's in response to the person who wants to be your teacup: _I wanna be that desk! He can sit on my face all night! Or I don't need to be the desk JUST BEND ME OVER IT AND TAKE ME HARD._ Hmm I wonder if the filter caught 'sit on my face' or 'bend me over'. Either way, that's rather amazing."

David doesn't know what to say, so he just lets out a distressed groan. He really, really does not need to hear a ten-year-old Qubine say words like those.

"I thought you went to give talks to the young elites. Children sure mature fast these days."

"I ended up taking on the whole year group."

"David, I know you're xiphosian but surely 200 people are too many at once?"

"I was attempting to set a record," is what David manages to say. It's either that or resort to swearing.

Thinking about it again, though, this is truly quite funny once he gets over the initial shock. Not just the cadet's posts — this is surely the only time he will ever hear Qubine say the words "bend me over and take me hard".

Qubine chuckles down the line. "You have clearly made your mark."

David snorts. "I got offered to do the same on Athlum. I suppose management doesn't check the board."

"Bending people over desks aside, there is a lot of good feedback on your performance the past week, so I'm not surprised they want you on Athlum now. Will you go?"

"If HR approves my holiday application. I want to try to see Rush again before he starts working on your ship."

"Has he said that he'll apply for a position on the Umbermarici?"

"No, but I'm sure he will."

"Hmm. How is he doing?"

"Wonderfully ignorant of the fact that he is outperforming his peers in many areas, as far as I know."

David can almost hear Qubine smile. "No clue as to which corp he might join, then?"

"Trying to plan the future of our son again, are we?" David asks, referring to the conversation they had on Athlum months ago, before Rush even enlisted.

"I would make a terrible parent, but I can see you being very good at it," Qubine muses.

"I was about to say the same thing to you." Not that David would ever want a child or that Qubine could ever become a father anyway, unless he adopts. "You're in contact with Rush, aren't you? You can just ask him."

"I might do that."

"So, what is it?"

"What is?"

"Why are you calling me?

"Oh, I saw the posts on that board and thought you should hear them, that's all."

How unusual. But it is peace time, and the Umbermarici practically runs herself so maybe Qubine has a lot of time on his hands. "I see. Thanks to you I'm now quite traumatised."

"Excellent. Mission accomplished. Also I wanted to test the new phone network, do I sound scratchy to you?"

A new network... ah, David has heard of it before. It uses a new infrastructure to relay voice data and is supposed to be able to cover large distances with minimal delay. "No, you sound very clear. Where are you?"

"Roughly halfway between Crookfen and Melphina."

That's far enough from where David is that normally a call would not even connect. "That's quite incredible."

"The person making the call must be on the system for it to work, so you won't be able to call me right now. Just hand in your phone at the office on Athlum and they should get you the upgrade on the spot. Then we can keep in touch more easily."

"This sounds almost like you miss me."

"There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"

For a moment David loses his words.

"Wow, you are going to make me cry, I'm so touched," he says, and sniffs deliberately for good effect. "Are you just overworked and lonely? You still haven't appointed a vice-captain yet?"

"I've only just put a name forward to see what management has to say. It's taken much longer than I expected; you are not easy to replace."

If that's really the case then perhaps Qubine should have thought harder before he told David to leave—

_Shut up, David. He never pushed you. He saw a chance to improve the fleet and offered you a career opportunity. And it's been years, you need to stop being bitter over nothing._

"Well, I wish you good luck with that."

"I need it. Actually, your insight will be very helpful. You will be heading to Congress?"

"Yes. I'll see you there? Will you even make it in time if you're near Crookfen?"

"The Fourth Siebenbur Path is open; the Umbermarici will be warping," says Qubine. "I'll see you then. Take care... meow."

"Stop that. And you too."

 

The day before David lands back on Athlum, the estate agent calls and tells him there are several buyers interested in his flat. David instructs him to get the best price he can, and by the time the Kellendros touches down, the bidding war is done and dusted.

The estate agent sends over all the details in an email. David reads it twice — the final price is even higher than expected, there's now a very handsome amount of money waiting for him, and he needs to pack up and move.

Human Resources has approved David's holiday application, so he has to do the talks at the training camp and has no time to do any packing. But that's a problem that can be solved with money; the estate agent has already sent over a list of recommended companies that would do packing and moving or storage for very reasonable prices.

But where is he going to live?

It's only a week of training, then he has to fly again. Perhaps it'd be practical to just use this camp's accommodation as well.

The weather is horrendous. There was a storm brewing when the Kellendros entered the atmosphere, and by the time David steps out of the spaceport the rain is pouring down. Every time lightning flashes overhead, he can feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end from the static.

He buys an umbrella and walks briskly homeward. Reaching a point where he knows he can make the rest of his way home under shelter, he gives the umbrella away; he already has two at home.

His flat is the same as when he left it, except the door to the master bedroom has been left open, probably by the people who came to view the place. He doesn't bother to go and shut it — that room in particular is filled with soured memories, but he feels detached from it now. He might not have physically moved out yet, but it seems like his heart is no longer here. This is no longer home.

All of a sudden the living room is flooded with white light. He goes to the balcony, sliding open the glass doors just in time to hear the rumbling thunder that follows the lightning. A memory comes to him: when he was maybe twelve years old, he and his brother learned about a myth that if one laughed during a thunderstorm, god would punish them by striking them with lightning and giving them a cleft lip. To prove that it was only a myth, they dragged their whole family — all fourteen of them at the time — out into the garden during a thunderstorm, where they screamed and ran around and had a huge water fight. With a family of that size and children spanning a considerable age range, it was rare for everyone to do something together. That was perhaps the last "fun" thing they did as a family before his father walked out.

He does miss them. The idea of permanently living with his family again isn't one he's fond of and his siblings are scattered all over the city, but if it's only for a week and he has to work during the day anyway, then he can definitely manage. Selling this place is about moving on from the past. So he should take this chance to show Arianne that although there are many other options, he is choosing to stay with her. He should show the rest of his family that he was sorry for leaving and it wasn't their fault they couldn't help.

Do it. There is no need to think too hard.

As usual, it's Arianne who answers the call, being the one who works from home.

"It's David. My flat's just sold and I have a week until my next flight, so I was wondering... would it be okay if I come and stay at home?"


	22. Chapter 22

"Now!"

The row of cadets drop to the ground right away, chest down, keeping themselves as low as possible. Then they crawl to the rifles 20 metres in front of them, aim for the distant target, unlock and shoot.

Rush hits the electronic target in the chest and comes second in terms of speed.

He had thought today was going to be super intense, but it turns out it's just assault courses and target practices. Well, it's not like those things are easy — he feels absolutely shattered — but he thought it'd be something doubly insane considering the sadistic grin the major had on his face this morning.

Then he tries to stand up, and realises that this is bad enough. Ouch. Bloody ouch! Low profile crawling is the one thing that can make your inner thighs burn like hell. Seriously, inner thighs and groin! Now everyone's going to spend the rest of their day walking funny.

Watching his cadets wince, the major cackles, tells them to go clean up and eat some protein.

Rush and a few others end up spending a few extra minutes collecting the equipment and putting things away because hey, someone's gotta do it.

"Why did you hesitate?"

Rush closes the lid on the recycling bin and then stands to attention, which still feels weird after all these months because this major is a qsiti so rather than looking up Rush needs to look down while standing as tall and straight as he can. "Sir?"

"You waited to shoot."

Ah, crap. "I'm not too confident on my aim, sir."

The major's mouth twitches. "Bullshit. You held back. You hold back a lot of the time. At first I thought you were scared, but..." he studies Rush. "You have the aptitude. You have good discipline and drive. You can perform better than what you've shown and I think you know it."

"I... well..."

"You don't want to be noticed? You don't seem shy to me."

"That's not... being the best in class isn't a goal for me, sir. But in a real world situation of course I'll always do my best." But in the Training Regiment, Rush would rather just keep his head down and leave the competition to those who care about that sort of thing. He's just here to become an officer so that he can go into space.

The major considers this. "Well, I can't fault you for being mindful of the harmony within the regiment and knowing your own priorities, both are virtues, not faults," he says, turning to walk away. "Just remember that competition isn't always a bad thing; it pushes people to improve."

"Yes sir. Thank you sir."

After dinner, Rush checks the flight he's booked to go back home in about three weeks. Man, he can't wait. It's going to take around twelve hours, which is no time at all in terms of space travel, but pretty slow when compared with the Kellendros. Rush seems to remember David once saying that it took him just a few hours to fly between Celapaleis and Eulam. Rush won't have the luxuries of a private ship, though. He'll be flying with a budget company so it won't be the most comfortable travel experience, but he doesn't mind too much; as long as there's music and a net connection he can keep himself entertained for hours.

After making sure that his flight details are correct, he logs onto an auction site to search for tickets to Omnistrike's gig. They're going to be on Eulam when Rush is home, but damn, he couldn't get online when the tickets went on sale and they were sold out in minutes. Irina and a few of his mates did try to get one for him but it was a matter of luck, which they didn't have. There's hardly anyone auctioning their tickets now and the few that are up for sale are going for ridiculous amounts of money, Rush can't justify paying that much even if it's for his favourite band.

Guess this is one of the things he'll just have to get used to. Being in the army is his dream, and if there are sacrifices he has to make then, well, he'll make them. Not like he's got a choice.

He hopes he's doing all right. He thinks so, but what the major said yesterday is kind of worrying him, because the major did have a point. Rush is pushing himself, but just not as hard as he possibly can. And maybe that is slowing his growth. And it's not like he doesn't want to give his all, but he only wants it for the personal fulfillment, not the satisfaction of beating the rest of his regiment.

Man, this is hard.

Maybe he should ask someone.

On his phone, he switches away from the auction site and brings up the messaging window. The first person that comes to mind is of course David, since that's the guy who persuaded him to join the army, but...

Since David left the training camp a few day ago, Rush has done a lot of thinking, and realised he had been far too harsh on his friend. So Rush didn't know about his arm before, but why would David have mentioned it? He wanted to shock the class into thinking about writing a will, it had to be horrible for him because who'd want to talk about something as awful as having your arm blown off? But he still did it. And all through that lecture David was so frank about stuff because he really cared about the cadets' future. And Rush is one of those cadets. He ought to be thankful for that. Instead he shouted at David because David made him feel an emotion.

Oh man, he'd been such an arse.

It was a weird way to find out about stuff. Not just the amputation, but also now he knew why David implied before that he didn't have many friends. He told the cadets to maintain friendships planet-side because he learned the hard way. He's given his youth and his entire adult life so far to the army, serving on a ship that hardly ever touches the ground. And although Rush can imagine David having loads of friends on the Umbermarici, that's not where he is stationed anymore; he had to start all over again on the Valeria Heart.

Poor David. Rush's inability to see Omnistrike is literally nothing compared with the sacrifices his friend has made.

He really needs to talk to David. He just needs to first come up with a way to get his sentiments across, namely "sorry I was a complete and utter dick," and "you're an amazing guy."

Oh, hell, maybe he should just start with that.

**R:** Hey sorry I was such a piece of crap the other day.

He sends it, but doesn't get a reply right away, which usually means he won't get one for a while, so he puts the phone away until it vibrates a few hours later, just before he goes to bed.

**D:** No you really weren't. I need friends like you to tell me when I'm doing things wrong. So thank you. :)

God. This guy. He can be so enraging sometimes!

**R:** That's very gracious and mature of you but please  
**R:** How about this: we both derped let's pretend it never happened.

**D:** Haha okay let's go with that.  
**D:** Just noticed the time, sorry if I woke you.

**R:** Not yet, getting ready for bed. What you doin?

**D:** Just taught a class at the training camp here.

**R:** I thought you're on shore leave???

**D:** It happens. The higher ranked you are, the more flexible you need to be.

That's pretty annoying.

**R:** You did too good a job on Celapaleis that's why.

**D:** I did see the posts on that anon board. 

"Oh. God, he saw them," Rush says, gaping at the screen. His roommates give him a weird look before realising he's on the phone and just chuckle at him instead.

 **R:** OK lemme explain, they really like you, most of the posts there are jokes. They mean well.  
**R:** After a while I told them to knock it off. It got out of hand and they knew it.

**D:** I'm aware that it became a meme. That's one thing crossed off on my bucket list.

The whole thing was starting to have a life of its own; there was even a picture with just the lid of a vacuum flask on a desk with the simple caption _HNNNNNNG_. It was at that point that Rush coughed and gently reminded his fellow cadets that David might see the posts.

**R:** Jokes aside they really admire you. You're young and successful and I guess the fancy accent helps too. :P

**D:** I have a fancy accent?

**R:** Yus you sound like a   
**R:** You're approachable and you humanised it all for us and talked to everyone like we're all adults.

**D:** Maybe that last bit was where I went wrong.

**R:**   
**R:** Actually can I ask you for advice about some training stuff?

**D:** Of course.

Rush explains his situation, the conversation with the major and his feelings about it.

**D:** Like he said it's not a bad thing so don't feel bad about it.  
**D:** But you want to and need to push yourself harder. The better your skills the more opportunities you get, and the better you are at your role.  
**D:** Maybe what you need is a healthy rivalry. Don't worry about the rest of the regiment, just find one person who's about your level and keep pushing each other.  
**D:** Like a gym partner. Except not quite.

That sounds like a cool idea. David really gives good advice.

**R:** Did you have a friendly rival?

**D:** I've always been a bit competitive so I just did my best anyway.  
**D:** Later on I guess you could say Qubine was my target. He humoured me.  
**D:** It wasn't much of a rivalry since he was far beyond my level.

**R:** Well he doesn't look it but he IS older.  
**R:** I say you've caught up pretty well, sir captain sir!   
**R:** He wouldn't be a good gym partner for you though.

**D:** He passes the regular fitness tests, I'm sure he's at the peak of physical health for his race, but...

Oh yes, Rush has seen xiphosians on assault courses and at the gym. They look like most other mitras, and then you see them jump or run or do lifts and you realise they're not like other mitras at all, it's as if gravity affects them 50% less. Gefyrians like Qubine are not quite the opposite — their physical builds depend a lot on their home planet and diet — but they really are no match against xiphosians like David.

 **R:** You can pick him up with just one arm. Even the adult version.

**D:** At his weight that's not difficult. That's not to say I've actually done it.

**R:** Put it on your bucket list.

**D:** If I do it you'll be the first to know.

Oh, what Rush would give to witness that.

**R:** Anyway, you just off work then? What time is it at Castle?

**D:** Dinner time. I'm almost home.

**R:** Go eat. We'll talk again later.  
**R:** Thanks for your help.

**D:** Anytime.

 

More food is being piled onto his plate. David doesn't bother saying anything anymore and just keeps eating.

Dinner yesterday was a big event; all of his parents were home and two of his sisters came back too. Tonight it is a much simpler affair with only four people including David. It doesn't change the fact that everyday his family is trying to get him to eat more, insisting that he has lost a lot of weight. He disagrees — his recent measurements aren't that different from the ones six months ago, he's only a little lighter, it's just that when he loses fat it goes from his face first.

But it's fine, he'll just eat more if it makes them nag less. Besides, he really enjoys being at the dinner table like this, eating with family or friends, even if they aren't necessarily interacting much — Rynn is reading a novel, Ian is talking about the price of meat with Arianne and David is checking his messages on the phone.

He has a message from Sheryl, the young woman the Valeria Heart escorted to the Kosmosfest some months ago.

**S:** It should be on its way! ^.^

**D:** I got the dispatch notification. Thank you so much.

**S:** No prob! Sorry I could only get you 1! Is it for your sweetheart?

**D:** Haha no. It's for a very good friend.  
**D:** Anyway, how are you doing?

**S:** Busy! I'm moving to Fornstrand!

**D:** Moving? As in moving house, for good?

**S:** Yes, it's bye-bye to Nagapur from me. I've been thinking about it for years. Finally doing it! \o/  
**S:** I love Fornstrand, it's always so calming there.  & being Cosmos Maiden makes immigration papers easy. ;)

**D:** Congratulations, it sounds like you're making a dream come true.

**S:** Thanks.  <3 Next time you come to Fornstrand you need to visit me ok?

**D:** I don't know when I will next head that way but yes, I definitely will.

Sheryl is generous and fun, if not a bit jittery. It was hard not to like her once David got to know her better at Kosmosfest last year. She did annoy most of the crew on the Heart during the journey, but it turned out she only talked so much because the death threats she received made her nervous. As soon as an arrest was made and she landed safely on Fornstrand, she became much, much easier to get along with.

Sheryl has been the Maiden for the festival for two years and will remain in the role for at least another three, and while that alone shouldn't warrant anyone uprooting and moving planet, she was right that Fornstrand is calming. Some say it's because of the slightly different atmospheric pressure, others say it's because of the unique composition of the rocks along its main coastline. Either way, David has been there on two occasions and each time had felt very much at ease. It's tranquil there, in the same sort of way that listening to the rain feels tranquil.

Moving to Fornstrand really isn't an option for him, but he should try to go back there if he manages to squeeze a break out of his schedule.

"Tea?"

David puts his phone down and nods. "But please, no sugar."

"Eat a bit more then," says Rynn before getting up to make tea. ignoring David's comment that he is already eating two persons' worth.

David rolls his eyes and tries to finish his extra portion of food, raising his eyebrows when he notices that Arianne is studying him.

"I'm eating, I'm eating. What have you all got against chiseled jawline..."

"I'm just thinking I might need to start a new painting."

David has nearly forgotten about that. His mother has been working on a portrait of him. That was months ago, he wonders if it's done yet. "My face hasn't changed that much."

"No. It's just..." she folds her arms on the table and smiles, the corner of her eyes crinkling, "...you seem a bit different. Selling your flat was good for you, but something else has just happened?"

Arianne and her all-seeing eyes. David just shrugs. The messages from Rush earlier have lifted his mood considerably; up until half an hour ago, he had been quite stressed.

He tries to not think too hard about how a few words from Rush could sway his mood so easily.

"Do you know where you're moving to?"

Is that a probing question? She might be guessing that he's met someone. "I haven't had any time to look yet. I don't need to be next to the spaceport, so a little bit further out, maybe. I'd get more house for my money."

Or maybe one day he would say "to hell with it" and buy a home on Fornstrand.

Arianne has no comment to make on David's choice. "Hmm. You also look a bit run-down. Is teaching difficult?"

"Not really. It's not hard work, just takes up time," says David. He doesn't even dislike the job, just the way he got pushed into it all of a sudden.

A tray with four mugs is set down in the middle of the table. Rynn distributes the tea, then sits down. "Learn to say no, David. They have no right to make demands like that."

"They don't. But they have the privilege to ask, and I have the obligation to not turn it down."

Rynn rolls her eyes. "When is your next break, then?"

"My next round trip takes eighteen days." Fly to Elysion Space Station, stay a few days there for Congress, and then back to Athlum. "If all goes well, I'll be back for two days before flying for another month, or so I've been told."

Ian, who has been quietly listening, shakes his head. "It's good to see you more often compared with when you were on the Umbermarici, but your schedule these days is so sketchy, it's worrying," he says, frowning. "Doesn't it drive you crazy? How are you going to make plans for anything?"

"I took a holiday last year." David shrugs again. He has decided to try to be more spontaneous about life. "And I have enough plans, all the important things are covered." Apart from his living situation, that is.

"Well... don't work yourself too hard. But as long as you're happy, I guess."

David nods and goes back to trying to finish his dinner.

Happy. No, he isn't happy, he hasn't been happy for a long time. And the admittance, once he made it to himself, was oddly liberating. And now he's working on it.

He will be happy eventually, maybe even soon.


	23. Chapter 23

The suit is a dark silvery blue, and Qubine has a matching waistcoat to go with it. It's made by a traditional tailor using traditional fabric, which means it's definitely not easy-care, but the look on David's face the first time he tried it on made it all worth it. Apparently it is necessary for a person to own at least one handmade suit, according to David. That is the biggest piece of nonsense Qubine has ever heard his friend say in all the years they have known each other, but having a suit does come in useful at occasions when Qubine just doesn't want to have to think about what to wear.

He checks it, and the shirt, tie and the shoes too, finds a tag left over from dry cleaning and bins it, then he makes sure he does have the present he and Letitia have prepared. Being in the Intergalactic Army means having to comply with strict regulations on the giving and receiving of gifts, but the item isn't worth much so there won't be a problem.

He looks up when he hears the beep of his doorbell, followed by the unique and somewhat grating voice of the publicity officer and chief busybody over the speaker. "Hey there!"

Qubine hangs his suit on a doorframe, goes to his desk in the office and presses a button unlock the entrance. Darien strolls in, not bothering with formalities and behaving like he owns the place, as usual. At least he doesn't do that in public, otherwise he would've made an awful publicity officer.

"Just finishing the last few, thought you'd want some," he says, holding a food container at Qubine. Darien's family always makes him cookies that are very delicious and dangerously moreish. What they are actually made of is a secret and probably involves vast amounts of preservatives since this batch must be around ten months old now, but they are just so good that nobody cares. Darien rarely shares them except with people he really likes, and Qubine is lucky to be one of them. "Also, they said to tell you we're going to be at the Fourth Path soon, like, within the hour."

Qubine takes a look inside the container. There are indeed only a few cookies left. "Are you sure?" he asks, and helps himself when Darien nods. "Thank you. I'll be at the bridge soon."

Warping is not that difficult a task — at least in Qubine's opinion — but regulations do require the commanding officer to be present at the controls even if there is a dedicated pilot.

Munching on a cookie, Darien goes over to the drinks dispenser and helps himself to some coffee, then he spots the clothes hanging at the far door. "Ooh, look at that! I didn't know you own a suit!"

"David persuaded me to get one a few years ago when I had to attend an event to receive my ten-year service award."

Darien smirks. "That does sound like the Davey. I bet you spent good money on it."

"He took me to a tailor on Athlum. The experience was rather odd," says Qubine, gesturing for Darien to get him a coffee too. "At one point the tailor asked if I dressed left or right, for example."

Darien looks as confused as Qubine felt at the time. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"An issue that affects most species of male mitras," Qubine explains, and when even that isn't clear for Darien, adds, "their testes are outside. Tailors apparently allow room in the trousers for that."

Darien pulls a face, then laughs. "Wow. That's pretty weird."

It wasn't something that had crossed Qubine's mind. With the tailor kneeling in front of him measuring his inside leg, he had looked at David hoping for a clue, but only received a playful grin as a reply. Then the tailor stood up, saw his baffled expression, and went, "oh, you're gefyrian? Don't worry then."

Standing to one side watching the proceedings, David began laughing. "Rude!"

The poor tailor's face started flushing at that point. "I only mean that gefyrians have less to put away by default, it has nothing to do with actual size... I am going to stop talking."

After taking all the measurements, the tailor asked Qubine to try on some ready-made suits so that he could pick a style. That was when David really went to town. And when Qubine put on the semi-fitted one that was the style he eventually ended up ordering, David had gawked, turned away comically, and said, "shit, I can't look at you."

"That bad, is it?"

"I'm taken. I'm very taken." David whispered loudly to himself before glancing back, but he quickly looked away again as if the sight burned him. "That's a good cut on you. Get that one. But not in black. The black's... too much. I'm taken, stop seducing me. I need to call my boyfriends."

Qubine arched an amused eyebrow. "Flattery isn't going to get you a promotion or pay rise."

"Well. Hmm. In that case, you look all right in that, I suppose."

That was how Qubine ended up with the suit he now has.

"It was indeed a strange day. But I'm not good at clothes shopping so it was helpful to have David there. He is also good at giving advice which made the process less stressful."

"That's the Davey for you. He's good at that sort of thing, especially when it's clothes, mitra haircuts, things like that. Always complimenting people, but not in the way that'd make you think he's trying to get something from you or just sucking up. One time he even noticed I got new ear covers when they were the same as my old ones!"

That is the thing about David. He is skilled at spotting things, not solely on fashion, but the things that people have put effort into. Then he offers compliments or advice accordingly. Reading people and situations well is a skill useful in diplomatic settings as well as on the battlefield. It's one of the reasons why the Valeria Heart is successful, Qubine believes.

As for Qubine himself, he knows that he shares the same skill, having taught himself to read people as a matter of survival during the earlier years of his life. But when it comes to showing appreciation the way David does, that's something Qubine is still working on. Commanding a ship as a ten-year-old means there are difficult balances to strike; he needs to be particularly careful that his behaviour cannot be interpreted as dependence or anything childlike.

Well, today he isn't neotenising, at least. "I'm going to the bridge," he says, shrugs on his rarely-used adult uniform jacket, then puts a lid on his coffee so that he can walk with it.

"You're going like that?"

"The flight controls are easier with bigger hands." And when entering wormholes, precision matters.

"Go small anyway!" Darien screeches. "I hate it when you're so much taller than me!"

"I hate to break it to you, but the world still does not revolve around you."

"Lies! Lies!"

 

The Valeria Heart is on its way to Elysion Space Station with three passengers on board when David receives new instruction from central command.

He reads it, then reads it again.

"No."

He is quite good at keeping his face neutral when necessary, but this isn't one of those times. Emma, whose shift has just ended and is letting someone else take her seat, goes over to him straight away. "Captain? What's the matter?"

David draws a deep breath. No use panicking. "I am giving a presentation on the Valeria Heart trial programme at Congress."

"What? And you've only just been told?"

"Yes. This means we only have a few days to prepare."

Emma twitches, her annoyance barely contained. "I'll get the vice-captain. We can put something together, please don't worry."

As Emma runs off, the other people at the bridge start making empathetic noises and wondering out loud why such a presentation is necessary. David doesn't know. He will ask, though, if only to find out what sort of details he should be giving.

But, him, speaking at Congress?

It's likely just a small thing on the side — there are hundreds of little speeches and informal meetings alongside the main meetings — but still, it would be one impressive thing to add to his CV. Though, he doesn't have anywhere he particularly wants to be with his career for that to be important.

"Captain." Torgal's voice comes through the intercom. "Emma has informed me of the situation. Shall we use the meeting room?"

Damn this. First his entire shore leave was cancelled and he had to teach cadets on two planets, and now he suddenly needs to give a presentation at Congress, with almost no time to prepare? Is someone deliberately trying to screw him over? Thank god he has a good team. They'll get this done, somehow.

He just hopes he won't have to deal with any more surprises for the rest of this journey.

 

The jump takes about eight hours, but it has saved the Umbermarici weeks of travelling. Qubine gets off the controls, stretches, and waits for the inevitable buzz of everyone's devices now that they are communicable again. Qubine also gets a number of emails and other communications — not a surprise since he gets 80 a day on average — and he first opens the ones that catch his attention the most.

An official approval from management of his appointment of a new vice-captain.

Some photos of the cafe's expansion progress, and a video of the cats, sent by his sister.

A final call for people who might want to attend the social event at Congress.

An email from his police contact...

He freezes, momentarily overwhelmed by discomfort and confusion. Why would... this does not make any sense...

The only way to find out is by asking. He replies to request for more details, although expecting that he won't be given any.

That's all he can do about it right now, but there are plenty of other things he needs to be doing. Firstly, he should go and talk to his new vice-captain.

He returns to his office and summons the man. It goes well — Maddox is happy to accept the role. The last time Qubine had to appoint a vice-captain, Maddox was not ready and David was clearly the right man for the job. Years later, Maddox is the best candidate Qubine has, and although sometimes something doesn't feel quite right, Qubine puts it down to himself comparing Maddox to David, which is an unfair thing to do. They are very different people with very different strengths and personalities. But Qubine thinks he can work with Maddox well, and that's what matters.

After the chat, Qubine makes a ship-wide video announcement:

"It is my pleasure to announce that Lieutenant Commander Maddox, of the Intelligence Corps, has been appointed as the Second-in-Command of IAS Umbermarici. He will assume the new role after the upcoming maintenance period. Please join me in congratulating Maddox."

After that — he can faintly hear cheering and clapping from the corridor outside — Qubine steps aside and lets Darien say the rest, since lately Darien hasn't had a chance to do any of the public speaking he enjoys so much, and it's really better for someone other than the captain to do the rest of announcement.

Well, perhaps it's fine for the captain to say it, but Qubine has not cultivated the right image for this.

"Ahem! In addition, we have gained some time through the captain's expert use of the Fourth Path, so we will be making a stop at Warrior Town where you may celebrate Vice-Captain Maddox's new appointment before we continue on to Elysion."

There is another round of the cheering and shouting. It's been an uneventful year, but it doesn't mean the crew wouldn't like a night out before going to Congress and then heading home.

Qubine's phone buzzes with an email. It's a reply from the police: they cannot disclose any detail at the moment, as expected. But the sooner Qubine provides what they've requested, the sooner they can tell him more. Hopefully.

Qubine physically cannot deal with this right now — he has to wait until he's back on Celapaleis. It's not even that he is worried; he is assisting the law enforcement, not getting into trouble with the law. And it's not like he's literally triggered every time the police contacts him — he doesn't get "triggered" — he simply gets anxious, that is all.

How he wishes he is back home at the cafe, de-stressing with a cat in his lap.

Before he knows it, he is switching screen and writing a message. David is no cat, and Qubine doesn't really know what to say, but talking to David often relaxes him.

**Q:** I have a new vice-captain.

There is no reply straight away, but one arrives soon after Qubine has made his way back to his quarters. After eight hours of piloting through a wormhole, even he needs some rest.

**D:** Maddox?

**Q:** Correct, and you win a cookie. Ask Darien if you see him later.

**D:** Maddox is a great choice. I thought you'd have done this sooner.

**Q:** There are reasons, I can tell you at Congress. How far are you now?

**D:** Not far enough. Too much I must get done before arriving. Can you stall Congress for me? A week will be enough.

**Q:** That would delay my shore leave.

**D:** How long is it this time?

**Q:** Forecasted to be 12 weeks. Upgrading the comms.

**D:** Are you supervising the elite programme again?

**Q:** Not this year. I have nothing to do.

At his last shore leave, Qubine's friends bemoaned that they didn't get to see him enough. He plans to rectify that.

**D:** Cat cafe everyday?

**Q:** Not everyday. That would be too much free labour for my sister.

**D:** I'm quite envious.

**Q:** I'm sure you can find similar cafes near home.  
**Q:** Anyway, I shall let you get on with work. What is your actual Congress schedule?

**D:** The first two days are no good, the rest I'm free. You?

**Q:** Similar. Plus a social event on the second night.  
**Q:** It would be good to see you.

**D:** Likewise. See you then. :)

 

"Decision delayed."

"Pardon?"

"Review on the incident where Emmy got injured." David puts his phone down. He wishes he's the sort of person who throws things. Bet that would feel satisfying. "Due to 'clerical error', they say."

Torgal swallows a sigh. "Do you want me to tell her?"

"It's fine, I'll go. I think we should be landing soon, so let's break."

David leaves the meeting room and, before searching for his officer, returns to his cabin to wash first. He hasn't slept for three days. He has no idea how he used to pull all-nighters at the drop of a hat when he was a teenager, but he really can't do it anymore. God, he feels awful. But it's always easier to just keep pushing until the work is done, and the presentation is now pretty much ready, and there's still a bit of time left before Congress for refinements and rest. It's mostly thanks to Torgal and Emma's help, though, he wouldn't have been able to do this alone.

In the shower, he checks the panel on the wall for the ship's status. They're almost at Ghor, where one of the passengers will be dropped off before they continue on to Elysion. There's enough time for David to catch a bit of sleep before landing, then he should take Torgal and Emma to that rather nice restaurant on Ghor to thank them for their hard work.

The Valeria Heart isn't that big, it takes David no time at all to find Emmy, who happens to be at the bridge. When David enters, the crew there greets him in unison. He nods in acknowledgement.

"Sorry for my absence."

"It's awright, Young Captain! Nothing's happening anyway," says Blocter, who is on the secondary flight controls. "How's the talk?"

"It's nearly ready."

"Great! Are you up for Four Winds later?"

"Hmm, not this time, I think I'll get some rest. In this state I'll just lose anyway."

"Like you don't always lose anyway." Blocter grins. "I'll ask Loki maybe. You go sleep!"

"Yes." David turns to the person he originally came here to speak to. "Emmy, a quick word please."

Not knowing which room might be occupied, David leads Emmy back to his cabin. Compared with the space he had back on the Umbermarici, his current cabin is awfully small — although he still has a separate office, it feels like it's part of his sleeping area, so he doesn't often let people come inside. But today he doesn't have the energy to care.

"The verdict on your review has been delayed," he begins, and Emmy visibly stiffens. "It's only due to a clerical error. When they finally get their act together I'll let you know."

She laughs awkwardly, her voice tight. "Well at least I'm not the only one making mistakes then."

"We all do; I'm not even wearing matching socks," he says in a loud whisper, as if sharing a secret. "The whole thing is just procedural. You'll be fine."

"Thanks, Captain..."

Time to move on from this topic a little. "Your hair is growing out pretty fast."

She tips her head towards him, the side which had been shaved for her surgery now has enough length that her scalp is barely visible. "Do you want to feel it? It's soft but prickly."

David hesitates a little before letting his fingers run across the tips of the hair. It is indeed soft but prickly. What an odd sensation.

"I'm thinking about keeping this length and having an asymmetrical cut."

"Denied. I'm the only one on this ship who can have asymmetrical hair."

As if disgusted by his response, Emmy mock-gasps, but before she can say a word, David cuts in.

"That is all, lieutenant. Dismissed."

Emmy's mouth twists. She barely manages to swallow her laugh before acknowledging his command by standing straight, with her shoulders pulled back and feet together. "Captain."

She leaves just before David pretends to kick her out, but she does make sure he hears her say, just before the door closes, that she won't allow him to monopolise the asymmetrical hairstyle market, whatever that means.

After she is gone, David sets an alarm, gets out of his uniform, takes off his right arm to charge it, then crashes into bed.

He doesn't think he's managed to reassure her. He doesn't have Qubine's way of making people believe — whenever Qubine tells someone everything will be fine, then it will be, no matter what the facts or the odds are. David has spent a lot of time thinking about all the incidences where he's witnessed this, analysing Qubine's word choices and style of delivery, but David still can't always pull it off.

Maybe that'll come with experience and age. But he remembers when Qubine was second-in-command, and when he was promoted to his current position. Qubine has always been able to inspire trust. But for David, he still feels like he's only playing pretend.

And that should be okay. Everyone is pretending, most of the time. That's what being an adult is about. He just needs to do it more convincingly, but despite Qubine encouraging him to seek advice that time over phone messages, he doesn't know how to. He needs advice on how to ask for advice...

Too exhausted to think, he falls asleep before he can finish that train of thought.

The next thing he knows, he is switching off the alarm on his watch, having woken up just before the time he's set himself. He feels somewhat more alive now, even if he has only slept half as much as he probably really needs. But no self-respecting captain sleeps through a landing no matter how insignificant a stop it is.

Returning to the bridge, he watches Emma bring them towards Ghor, a smaller station originally built as an interim facility for the construction of Elysion Space Station nearby. Known also as Warrior Town, it had once been repurposed as a base for a famous anti-impact-event operation and is now a location with access restricted to officials and military personnels only. With restaurants, bars, cinemas and other amenities for people and fueling, disposal and cargo transfer facilities for ships, Ghor has the feel of a port town and is going to be rather lively just before Congress, full of people stopping on their way to Elysion to refresh themselves first.

And it isn't just small ships that uses Ghor — as the Valeria Heart goes around the structure to get to the hangar designated for the Intergalactic Army, a ship the size of a small village comes into view. Far too large for the hangar, her crew would have to use landing ships.

David smiles nostalgically. The Umbermarici is here. He should give Qubine a call and see where he is.

But first, David ought to look after his crew.

"Emma? Torgal? May I treat you two to a nice dinner?" He asks as Ghor's flight controls guide the Valeria Heart into an allocated parking spot.

The pilot and the vice-captain glance at each other, and both shake their heads. "There's no need to, captain."

"Of course there is. I would still be in the meeting room tearing my hair out if not for your help."

Emma frowns a little. "What are you talking about? You've done most of the work."

David frowns back at her. "But—"

"We just brought you the data and provided moral support as you furiously wrote the presentation," says Torgal, looking somewhat resigned. "But it's typical of you not to have noticed that. In any case, dinner is not necessary. Perhaps some general social time with the crew would be more suitable."

Whether that's true David doesn't know, but it seems pointless to argue, so he doesn't. "Did you just suggest 'social'? What's got into you?"

Torgal doesn't reply, but his ears turn outwards. Every time he does that David can't help but think that it looks very cute, but he knows if he pointed it out then Torgal would stop doing it.

"All right. Gather everyone then, let's go get a drink."


	24. Chapter 24

"No! I need the other one! The other one!"

The distressed cry just makes Emma smirk. She deals herself a card — it's the one Loki wanted, and the man groans. Watching the game unfold, someone asks loudly if it's possible to change the bet, to which the answer is no. Emmy has a list of the bets. The losers are all apparently going to have to "do something nice for the vice-captain", Torgal's personal wish of "please absolutely do not" be damned.

Honestly, this crew. Some of them may be... strange, to say the least, but they're all good people. And these oddballs somehow fit together and look after each other.

David may be more than a little bit fond of them.

Someone is getting up to buy another drink, and asks David if he wants one too. He shakes his head. When he said he would "get a drink" with the Valeria Heart's crew, he didn't mean literally one drink, but that's how it ends up. It's not to do with the need to stay sober — although that is indeed necessary since they are only stopping for a bit and going to Elysion soon — but that David knows he shouldn't hang out with the crew for too long. They are a tightly-knitted team and he's younger than many of them, but he's still their commander. He can't be too friendly with them if he wants to maintain authority, and they should be allowed to have fun without him watching.

"Captain?" Loki lowers his beer and looks up when David stands.

"You enjoy yourselves. I want to go and stretch my legs a bit. I'll see you back on the Heart," says David, an excuse Loki sees through right away.

"Enh, don't worry about stuff, stay with us, we don't mind!"

"We'll have a proper night out when we get back to Athlum and aren't wearing uniform. And don't you dare turn me down then." David pats Loki on the shoulder. This is actually the man's last trip; he has decided to retire early so that he can be closer to his daughter. "I really need to get some more sleep."

"Alright, alright." Loki snorts. 

Then David has a quiet word with Blocter, telling him to keep an eye on Emmy, before ducking out of the bar.

Now what?

Well, he could and should go back and sleep. But the Umbermarici is here...

Ghor is classified as a "small" structure, although it is still sizeable. David is wondering if it'd be possible to surprise Qubine by just showing up without ringing him first when he spots a couple of officers wearing the Umbermarici's uniform. He doesn't recognise them — they must be new — but decides to ask anyway.

The officers give David a curious look, but they see the emblem that says they're in the same force and the decoration that shows David's rank, and just said sure, they could take him to the captain.

A while later, David is at another part of the zone and entering a pub called Den of Heroes, where he finds a sea of people. It looks like the Umbermarici's crew has taken over the pub.

Just as he tries to decide if he should go and say hello to the familiar faces, someone shouts his name. Within moments he is dragged into the crowd by old colleagues and friends so delighted to see him he's taken aback by the welcome.

"David!"

"You're looking great!"

"It's been so long, man, how's it going?"

"So good to see you!"

A drink is thrust into David's hands. He snorts and points out he shouldn't be accepting drinks before tossing it down. Then he sees Qubine coming towards him.

"Well, I wasn't expecting to see you here, David." Qubine is in his normal adult form. He has to be, to get inside anywhere that serves alcohol. He is also wearing his uniform, which is a rare sight since he tends to always stay neotenised while working.

"I had to drop someone off. I didn't realise you were stopping here too."

"We're celebrating Maddox's promotion."

"Ah, then don't let me steal his thunder. I should go."

"Nonsense. He would be happy to see you. Come."

They weave through the crowd until they find the orange-skinned qsiti who is the centre of attention today.

"Is that... the vice-captain!" Maddox exclaims when David approaches.

David laughs. " _You_ are the vice-captain, I think you'll find."

"Haha... old habits die hard. Gosh, isn't it great to see you."

"Don't steal my line. Good luck, by the way, working for him." David tips his head towards Qubine. "I hope you've been practising your mind reading skills."

Maddox doesn't want another drink so they toast with what they already have. David hangs around for a little while, then extracts himself from the crowd. It's Maddox's day. Much as David enjoys catching up with friends — god, it feels so good to be amongst them — he really shouldn't steal the attention the new vice-captain deserves.

He ends up at the half-full diner a few doors down, in the booth seats with Qubine, who bought a round of drinks for his officers before leaving to let them have their fun. It's a good thing not the whole crew is there. The pub wouldn't have been able to contain them all, for one. And that round of drinks must have cost Qubine a lot. Qubine is generous and probably would have been fine with buying for literally everyone on his ship, but that would be a ridiculous amount of money to spend.

"I hope they don't get too wild; the ship will be on security duty during Congress," says Qubine, glancing at the general direction of the pub he's just left.

"It'll be fine. Maddox won't let them."

"That's true."

"Looks like his appointment is well-received."

"So was yours. Yours was just more controversial."

David laughs. There were some who were not happy with him getting the job back then, primarily because of his age — he had lied to some people, including Rush's sister, before about how he was no record breaker. The truth is, at 19, he was the youngest person to have been made vice-captain for a battleship in this army. After his promotion, one of the dissenters actually left the Umbermarici rather bitterly, but as far as David knows that person never made very much of themselves on the ship they transferred to. In any case, David was often told he had proved the doubters and the cynics wrong very soon.

His words to Maddox earlier were only partly a joke; it was a pleasure to work with Qubine, but sometimes it demanded a good amount of anticipating what Qubine might want or need, and to be honest David doesn't think anyone else could have done the job back then for the simple reason that no one on the Umbermarici understood Qubine as well as he did. The other candidates might have been better at command, at strategy, at inspiring trust, but David knew how to support Qubine and that was what Qubine needed at the time.

Over the years Qubine has got better at communicating and delegating, though. Maddox shouldn't have too hard a time getting used to his new job title. And he's a well-respected, well-liked old timer with a sterling track record.

Promoting Maddox seems like a no-brainer, but it's taken Qubine over two years to do so. David has been guessing that there may be some politics involved, but having met Maddox again he can't help but feel a little concerned. It seems like something isn't quite right, but he can't put his finger on what the problem is.

Speaking of which, Qubine looks more tense than usual as well. Something must have happened. Is that why Qubine seemed eager to meet up when they last talked on the phone?

"Is Maddox going onto Elysion or staying on the ship during Congress?"

"He will be on Elysion with me. Why?"

"He gave me his number. I'll catch him for a chat there."

Apparently old habits do die hard. Here David is, anticipating what Qubine needs — a way to find out if something is bothering his new vice-captain.

A soft smile curls Qubine's lips, and he gives a little nod which, in Qubine-speak, is a quiet "thank you". On a different day David would sit back and reply with something like, "see, what'd you do without me?" but not right now, when Qubine has just got himself a new vice-captain. Sometimes tactlessness is amusing, sometimes it's just, well, tactless.

He looks down and uses the touch screen on the table to check the menu, going straight for the milkshakes. "So, what's good here?"

"Last time I came was a few years ago, so I don't know. I had a shockberry cheesecake shake which was nice... this one. The 'Hugo'." Qubine looks across the table and points at David's menu.

David's brows shoot up as he reads the menu. These people name their milkshakes: the Deacon, the Indie, the Nicole, and... "They have a 'Dave'."

Qubine searches for it, and snorts. "Nuts, chocolate, and more chocolate. And you can even have it hot."

"I like chocolate, but not that much," David mutters, and is about to make his order when the screen pauses - instead of using the computer, Qubine has called for an attendant.

"A large vitaeroot fries please," he tells the young waiter dressed in a white outfit and checkered apron. "And I'll have a hot Dave as well."

"Of course. And for you?"

"Hot Dave". David just manages to keep himself from sputtering. He reads the menu again, looking for the cinnamon roll shake. "A Ricky for me. Thanks."

"Nothing to eat?"

"No thanks."

The waiter wanders off, and there's a moment of lull as they both check that they don't have messages from work when all of a sudden Qubine says, while putting his phone away, "the police on Undelwalt contacted me."

The few words grab David's entire attention. "They did?"

"They want me and my sister to provide DNA samples, but wouldn't say why."

"Don't they already have those?" David asks, and Qubine nods. That makes no sense whatsoever. David can't imagine there being any new DNA evidence for Qubine's case. Even if such evidence was found, enough time has passed that it wouldn't hold up in court unless it was very well-preserved.

"It sounds like someone's lost your original samples," says David, not because he's trying to comfort Qubine but that there really can be no other explanation. And Emmy's review got lost recently too.

Qubine pauses to think. "That makes much more sense than any justification I could have come up with."

"This is an age when you could fly a ship and warp across space, but printers still break down all the time and things get lost because of 'clerical error'," says David, and Qubine chuckles. "It's probably nothing, but I'm here if you need help."

"I know. Thank you."

There are so many things that David can say, but it's all just stating the obvious — the police is on Qubine's side. His parents and some others are already in prison, dead or in rehabilitation. Some are still in hiding and those are who the police is pursuing. There is nothing that he needs to worry about.

Saying those things aren't going to help, and they don't make unpleasant memories better. David can only hope that by being there to listen, he makes things more tolerable whenever those memories are stirred.

He waits, but Qubine stays quiet. It seems to be the end of the topic. They should move on.

"So, I have a question about Ghor."

"Ghor?"

"As in the captain of the Malystrix. I've been wondering if he was named after this place."

"I don't think so. I believe both he and this station are named after the same man," Qubine explains. "Actually it'll be his birthday soon, there's a social gathering organised on Elysion that I'm attending. Maybe I'll ask him—"

All of a sudden the waiter reappears, almost as if out of thin air which is impressive considering he's yamaan and brandishing a tray with the orders.

"Hot Dave?"

Qubine doesn't miss a beat. "That's him— ah, my drink, yes. Cinnamon shake for him. And the fries are to share."

David nearly slams his face onto the table. Qubine just snorts.

"Just echoing the cadets' sentiments."

Dear god. "They're still at it?"

"They've stopped a while ago. Are you still embarrassed?"

"How can I not be? They're—"

"Meow."

Dear god, again. "I will hurt you."

"Oh no, a big burly xiphosian is threatening me with violence. Help. Help."

It's a good thing Qubine only deadpans that in the most dull, nonchalant tone possible because if his crew in the pub nearby heard that, they would be over to rip David apart in an instant.

"Excuse me, I'm not big or burly."

"Compared to me you are. How is your shake?"

"I'll tell you once you stop trying to make me choke." David lifts his metal tumbler, its outside misting from its icy cold content. "No one calls me 'Dave' anyway, apart from Rush."

Qubine shrugs, his mouth wrapped around the straw of his chocolate milkshake. "Darien still calls you 'The Davey'."

Have people been talking about him then, David wonders. "Well I never sanctioned that..."

His voice trails off.

From his seat, which faces the entrance, he watches a middle-aged mitra man walk into the diner. David's eyes follow him as he goes to the bar and takes one of the stools, then he looks down to read the menu.

That man...

No, it can't be.

"David?" Qubine tries to peer around to see what David is looking at, but his friend stops him. "You seem shaken. What's the matter?"

Oh. God. What to say. Where to start. David tries to pull his gaze away from the man but doesn't know where he should put his eyes instead. He's just underslept and stressed out. This can't really be happening.

Qubine looks around again, this time finding the person David has been staring at, From where they are sitting, they can see his profile clearly. Qubine makes a sound of surprise.

"A relative of yours?"

A reasonable guess, since they resemble each other. "I think... that's my dad."

"You 'think'?" Qubine's eyebrows shoot up. He looks again. "I take it that this is an unexpected encounter?"

"I haven't seen him in over a decade. He left my family." Well, it's his turn to have some bad memories stirred. David feels like his chest is being squeezed. There's so much he wants to know — why did his father leave? What has he been doing all these years? Does he know how much pain he's caused? Does he even care, sitting over there on his bar stool, ordering a milkshake?

"David." A hand reaches across the table. Qubine squeezes David's left wrist firmly. "You've gone red. Take a deep breath, and don't look over there. Look at me."

"I..." David starts, and laughs bitterly at himself. He feels like he is being turned back into a helpless child. "I can't deal with this. There's already enough going on..."

"Such as? I thought you're looking rather run-down."

Is that the reason for all that humour earlier? "It doesn't matter."

"If it doesn't matter, then it's fine to tell me, surely."

Is Qubine turning into Rush now? "This isn't the time to talk about that."

"Fair enough. One thing at a time." With his free hand, Qubine takes the phone David has left on the table. He holds it up to David's face to unlock it with the iris scan, then turns around to take a picture of the man who looks like David's father.

David nearly jumps. "What are you doing?"

"Facial recognition," Qubine tells him as he brings up the army's system and uploads the photo.

"Why would he even be on the system?"

"This is Ghor." Qubine looks up from the screen. "Civilians don't come here."

David gapes. That's right, he has forgotten. "Maybe he just works here."

"We'll see. Facial recognition doesn't work so well with photos taken at an angle but... there are some matches." The phone is put down on the table. "What is your father's name?"

"Gideon."

They scroll down the screen. David is also one of the search results. And then they find Gideon.

The profile is almost entirely blank. There is a lock on it.

David wants to swear. Qubine gets his own phone out and repeats the exercise. Same result.

"Hmm. No access even at our rank."

"What does this mean?"

"I've seen this sort of lock before. It means the information is only given on a need-to-know basis."

"And what does that mean?" David asks, although he thinks he knows what the answer is.

"It means he is a spy."

This time, David swears.

"An undercover agent," Qubine corrects his wording, his hand still firmly grasping David's wrist. "One of our own, since he's on our database."

David can feel the blood drain from his face.

"I thought he designed servbots for a living. Aren't all the agents supposed to be car salesmen or insurance brokers?" He forces a laugh. Once in a while Gideon would even bring home a prototype. Rynn had quietly given them all to charity after he disappeared from everyone's lives. David remembers himself thinking perhaps he should give himself away to charity, too, at least Arianne wouldn't be able to hit him then. It was at that point that he started thinking about leaving home.

Qubine smiles, but his expression remains earnest and concerned. "Do you mind if I ask... was his leaving very abrupt? Nobody saw it coming?"

"I was only 13 so I don't know for certain but... this explains so much."

It explains everything. David's father didn't leave because he felt overwhelmed by the xiphosian lifestyle like he claimed. He left because he got deployed by the same Intergalactic Army that David is now working for.

Shit.

Does that make it better, or worse?

"Do you want to talk to him?"

"I... no. I don't know what to say to him. And if he's doing undercover work there is nothing he can say to me either."

David tugs on his hand, freeing it from Qubine's grip. Damn, he has never been in such a state in front of his friend before. Or in front of anyone. Apparently all it takes is seeing his father.

"If he is here, I would guess he isn't on a mission at the moment. But I see your point." Qubine turns around to take another look. "Though I don't think you're getting a choice now."

The waiter who served David and Qubine earlier is at the bar, talking to Gideon and pointing at David's booth. They really look so alike even people who don't know them can see it.

Their eyes meet. In slow motion, Gideon gets off his stool. David stiffens.

No choice? Isn't "run away" an option?

There's a beep — Qubine has scanned his phone on the reader on the wall and paid the bill. He doesn't say anything, but he must be able to tell what David is thinking, and probably is trying not to judge. And David's pride, his self-respect start to evaporate. He is thinking about running again, just like he did from his mother, in front of a man who confronted his past and rose above it. If David ran now, how could he ever try to be Qubine's support again?

David steels himself, and looks up when his father comes to the booth, looking much the same as David remembers him. The man opens his mouth, but it takes a while for sound to come out.

"David?"

He sounds unsure. Well, the last time they saw each other, David was 13, half his age now.

It's David's turn to hesitate. Should he smile? "Hey."

"I... I've never thought I'd see you here..."

"Likewise."

Silence. Qubine shuffles a bit. "I should go. David, why don't you give me a call when—"

"No." David gives Qubine a look that he hopes means "please don't leave me alone". "Stay. Let me introduce. This is Qubine, Captain of IAS Umbermarici. And this is..."

Waiting to see what his father would say, David's voice drifts off.

"Good to meet you, captain. I'm Ro—" Gideon cuts himself off. His face is flushed, and he looks out of sorts. "Gideon. My name's Gideon."

"I should let you know that we looked you up just now." Qubine stands and shakes Gideon's hands. "We have a general idea of things."

"Ah..." Gideon's gaze flicks towards his son, "doesn't matter. I used to work for the IA but I'm just a simple pensioner now. Hence the old name."

David stays quiet, but the revelation is yet another shock. Does this mean—

"Well. You don't look retirement age to me, I must say."

"Oh, I'm not there yet. But it's the right time to go."

"Then congratulations are in order. And my respect and gratitude for your service."

"Thank you..."

"Are you in a hurry? Would you allow me to get you something?"

"Very kind of you. But I've just ordered, so..."

"Then, it's not much, but let me get that bill."

Qubine edges his way out of the booth, leaving David and his father alone despite David's silent request earlier. It's all right. David feels a little more in control now that Qubine got the conversation started.

"Sit down," David tells his father. "It's less awkward to talk."

Instead of sliding into the booth, Gideon looks around and gets himself a chair to sit at the end. Then he makes a point of studying David's uniform.

"IAS Valeria Heart," says David before Gideon asks the question. Earlier on he can't stop staring at his father, now he can't make himself look at him, fixing his eyes on his drink instead. "Special Ops."

"Captain," Gideon says under his breath. "You're just 26, aren't you?"

"I've been captain since 23. I joined early. Elite Programme."

A gasp. "They shouldn't have accepted you!"

"I've realised now. But it's a bit too late to raise hell over it." The divorce papers had already been signed then, but with Gideon doing covert work, accepting his son's application was against policy for the very reason that they might run into each other, like now, and blow the cover.

They have superb officers, training and equipment, but some areas of this army are totally shambolic and David wants to find the people responsible and blast them into deep space.

Gideon closes his eyes and sighs.

"So... how is everyone?"

"Good. They're all fine." David draws a deep breath and finally tries to look at his father.

Gideon's hands are trembling.

"And how've you been?"

"I'm not really ready to do any catching up," says David. He pauses, and adds, "it's not that I want to deny you details," he doesn't want to be vengeful, or mean. "I just don't know how to talk to you right now, sorry."

"No. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"I... now I understand it was all necessary. And your job was vital and dangerous. But at the same time..."

David is an army officer. But he is also a son. And he doesn't know how to get the feelings of these two identities to reconcile with each other.

"That's fine." Gideon shakes his head. "That's fine."

"But... thank you for the work you've done."

"Haha... to hear that twice in one day."

"I suppose you don't hear it a lot." Agents are not mentioned in the papers, they are not thanked in speeches. They do not exist. It's not that they do thankless tasks, but that it's rare for anyone to have the opportunity to express their gratitude. That's why Qubine reacted to Gideon the way he did, it wasn't just because they needed a way to start a conversation, but also that he genuinely wanted to thank Gideon.

Remembering Qubine, David looks over to the bar and sees him returning with what must be Gideon's order. Thank god. David isn't going to be able to do this alone for much longer.

"Gosh, to have the captain of the Umbermarici bring me food."

"Like I said, it's nothing. Also David has been a great help over the years."

David busies himself with his own drink. He hopes they won't keep talking as if he's taken his new boyfriend to meet the parents.

Luckily, everyone is just having a drink and some snacks. It's not dinner, it's not going to drag on for long. David simply stays silent and lets Qubine take charge of the conversation again, and there is enough going on on Ghor to talk about that nobody needs to mention work, or home.

David has so many question he doesn't know if he's ready for the answers to.

Then his phone rings, and he gets it out quickly like it's burning a hole in his pocket. It's Pagus calling him.

"Pagus."

"Captain. Please don't stay out for too long; you need to rest. Also I need to take your blood to feed your arm."

It's just advice, but this is David's chance to leave. "All right. I'm on my way back." He ends the call and starts to get up. "There's something I have to attend to. I need to go."

Everyone stands, but David gestures for them to stay. He mutters an apology, doesn't say anything to his father, and with brisk, long strides, leaves the diner quickly without breaking into a run.

"David. Wait."

He slows, then stops, so that Qubine can catch up with him.

"I don't particularly want to leave you alone right now, but would you rather I stayed with you, or should I see what I can get out of him?"

"Sorry, this is too sudden, I need some time alone to process. And there really are things I need to sort out on the Heart," says David. It's not a lie, technically; preparing the injection for his arm requires his blood. When he puts it this way then it doesn't sound like he's just running away.

He doesn't know if he should leave like this after meeting his father for the first time in so many years and barely exchanging a few words, but he doesn't know what to say, or what he can say. He can forgive Gideon for leaving him, just as he has forgiven Arianne for hurting him — he understands their reasons, and has seen the depth of their guilt on their faces. But that's just his own pain. Can he forgive Gideon for leaving the family?

Qubine thinks for a moment. "Right. Then I will let you go. Would you prefer that I don't talk to him any further? I can wrap things up now."

"I don't mind. He... isn't a bad man. Go and finish your hot Dave before it becomes tepid Dave."

"All right. I will call you very soon."

"Hmm."

Not wanting to make Pagus wait around for him, David goes to the medical bay first once he's back on his ship, although he does have to tell Pagus he's just had alcohol, to which the medic simply shrugs and says he can get that filtered out first.

After that, David goes back to his cabin, takes off his uniform, puts music on — Omnistrike isn't what most people would choose to sleep to but it's fine for him — and goes to bed.

Gideon.

His father was a spy. He lied about everything and broke everyone's hearts. It was because of him that Arianne lost control, that David left home and joined the army — ironically, the very army that his father was serving. He shouldn't even be here — the Elite Programme should have detected the false signature, should have realised he was Gideon's son, red flags should have been raised. They should have failed David instead of accepting him just because he passed the tests by the narrowest of margins.

But here he is, a captain with enough frontline experience to be considered a veteran. He has engaged in aerial battles, swept for mines on the ground, killed enemy forces in direct combat and now, about to give a presentation at Congress.

He wonders. How did his father feel when he left? How does he feel now, finding out that his son has become a captain in the army? Is he proud? Does he wish he could have watched his children grow up, and would he have told David no, don't join the military? If he's retired, does that mean he will try to go home? How would his family react? Would Arianne be able to accept him, or would she go off the rails again?

It's too much. Making a crucial mistake and hurting Rush terribly at training camp. Being made to give up his shore leave. Emmy's review getting delayed. Having to suddenly prepare a presentation to people who have the power to ground his ship. And now this, learning that regulations were not followed and safeguards were ignored when he joined the army, and his father practically coming back from the dead, which can potentially pull his family apart.

God. He could really do with a break.

But what if the verdict on Emmy arrives when he's away? Qubine has been trying to tell him that what happened was not a big deal, and David is inclined trust him, but...

Dammit. He is too tired to stay awake, and yet he can't sleep. It's only two days before he needs to do that presentation, he needs to rest, and actually finish writing the blasted thing.

With a silent sigh, he reaches for the tablet on his bedside, logs into the holiday application system and puts in a request. He feels bad doing this, but chances are he won't get the time off anyway, especially on such short notice. That done, he brings up what he has of the presentation so far. If he gets this thing done he can relax better—

His phone is ringing.

David turns the music down with the tablet and uses it to answer the call, since it's all linked up anyway.

"Hello?"

"Where are you, David?"

It's Qubine.

"On the Heart. Sorry I had to go early. Just getting ready for bed now." David doesn't quite want to say "trying to sleep" in case it makes Qubine feel bad for calling.

"You did look exhausted," says Qubine.

"Yes, well." Leaving the tablet on the edge of the bed, David rolls onto his back. "Things have been busy."

"You could be more descriptive than that."

"It's fine, it's all under control."

"David."

"I don't want to start ranting now. Later, when it's all over. I'll tell you about it before Congress ends."

A long sigh. "I was bordering on fidgety until I told you about the DNA request. And I'd like our friendship to be a two-way street. Will you tell me if I can help? "

"I will, if I need anything. But right now I don't."

There's nothing Qubine can do anyway, even if David can make himself accept the offer.

Another sigh. "I talked with Gideon for a little while longer. Would you like to hear a summary?"

David covers his eyes with his left arm. "Go on."

"He asked about you — where you've been stationed, which corp you're in, your experience in the army. After about five questions he realised I wasn't going to tell him anything."

"Thank you."

"He will be able to see your general profile, though, if he still has access to the system."

"I know."

"He said he's going to Congress to give a seminar on cross-organisational working. It will be his final job. I asked him about his future plans. He said he will go back to Athlum and rent a place in Virtus Parish, which I assume is not in Castle?"

"It's a town next to Castle City."

"Then I asked if he intends to return to his old life. He said he doesn't think it'll be possible, but didn't actually state whether he wishes to try or not."

David doesn't say anything.

"He gave me his contact details in Virtus Parish, in case you want to get in touch. I will delete them if you want."

"I... just... leave it for now."

"Okay. That's about all of it. But if there was anything I really learned from the encounter, it is that you should never cut your hair to spiking length," says Qubine, making David burst out laughing. "A light stubble is acceptable though, to my surprise."

"My god." David doesn't know what else to say.

"Oh, also, the aging process will treat you rather well; you will continue to be dashingly handsome."

"That's my father you're talking about; I am reassured yet alarmed." Under the circumstances, David cannot believe he's actually laughing; Qubine is a treasure. "Thanks."

"Two-way street."

"A two-way street full of fluffy cats would be nice."

"I'm sure Lettie would welcome your business."

Lettie. This must be the first time David hears Qubine address anyone by a nickname or a shortened name. And all of a sudden he laughs a little again.

"What?"

"Just remembered that Letitia called you 'Qoobs' when I met her."

No sound from the other side. David wonders if this is a "mildly annoyed silence."

"Anyway," Qubine says after a moment. "Why not get some time off and come to Celapaleis? I have a very long shore leave coming up and my sister has many cats."

It's not a bad idea, if David gets his time off approved. Then he can be there in case anything comes up after Qubine and his sister send off their DNA data.

"I've applied for leave already. If it goes through I'd love to visit..." David tells Qubine, his words trailing off into a yawn. "If that's really all right."

"I will ready the pussies in anticipation of your coming."

"Did you just—" It's a good thing David isn't holding his phone, because he would have dropped it. "I must be hallucinating."

"You must be. Perhaps you should get some rest."

David actually feels like he might be able to sleep now. For about a year. "Perhaps I should. We'll talk again on Elysion."

"Of course."

"Thanks again. Just... thank you."


	25. Chapter 25

As soon as he pressed the button, 3D-projected cats appear and start wandering about David's cabin. He can't help but laugh — Qubine had dropped off a visistone for him when he was still asleep, with a note saying that it's to tie him over until they get to chat again at Elysion. Having once helped Qubine return a cat visistone to his sister, David has suspected that this one would also be of cats, and he's right.

He sends Qubine a message to thank him, and receives a reply quickly.

**Q:** I will want it back.

David chortles. It's as if Qubine has lent him a treasured possession or a good luck charm.

**D:** How was it possible I was on your ship for so many years and never caught on to your cat obsession?

**Q:** It's not an obsession. It's for relaxing in private, emphasis on private.

**D:** Excuse me but what kind of private things do you do while watching cats? Should I have put on gloves before touching this?

**Q:** Not to worry, I sterilise it after every use.

David snorts.

**D:** I'll watch it after I've done my work, as a reward.

**Q:** What work is it?

**D:** Giving a presentation on the 2nd day of Congress. I've only just finished writing the presentation, it needs tweaking.

**Q:** Ah. You will do fine. 80% delivery, 20% content (or 20% food and alcohol.) Advantage if your session is immediately after lunch. Even if it is not, you will walk it.

There Qubine is again, inspiring faith in people and making them feel better. It works even over the phone like this; David's mood does ever so slightly improve even though nothing at all has changed.

Right, best get this presentation finalised. He just needs to get through this Congress, then it'll be one major source of stress out of the way. Plus, keeping himself busy means not having the time to think about his father. Two birds with one stone.

**D:** Such confidence.  
**D:** Must get things done so that I can enjoy your visistone. Talk later.

**Q:** Of course.

 

There is no known specific threat to this year's Congress. Using the Umbermarici for security is far over the top, but Celapaleis wants to flaunt, and the Umbermarici is being paid for the service of both providing security and leading a memorial service. The money is quite good. Even after the Intergalactic Army and Celapaleis take their cuts, there is still enough for the canteens on all of the decks to be refurbished without applying for funding through administration. And if there is a way to get something done without going through admin, Qubine will happily do it.

A number of the smaller crafts stationed on the Umbermarici are going to be deployed. Qubine leaves the finer details to Maddox and Wagram, and spends a bit of time catching up on some necessary reading instead. He has a few upcoming meetings, and although they are not that important — those meetings are being held during Congress only because everyone will there, making logistics much simpler — he doesn't want to be completely unprepared.

Also, he wants to be available if David needs to talk.

Qubine didn't know that his good friend's family had gone through a huge change in the past. David has never mentioned it before, so Qubine hasn't realised that David grew up with one fewer parent than he ought to have. If Qubine hadn't been there with him at the diner, David would probably have continued to keep it all to himself, too, and not just because of the nature of Gideon's job.

David is known for being calm and collected at all times, but the encounter has clearly affected him deeply; Qubine has never seen his face change as rapidly as it did.

Well, it was a shocking revelation, to learn that one's father has been working as a spy.

Family. When things go wrong with family, it's always complicated. David was there for Qubine when family matters from the past resurfaced, and Qubine wants to return that kindness, especially when he knows David is already under stress.

So far, Qubine has offered to help, offered to listen, and offered a visistone. He'd like to do more, but there isn't anything that he can think of.

Arriving at Elysion, Qubine is getting off his landing ship with a few others when he receives a message on his phone.

**R:** Hey sorry for the late reply. Yeah I'm good. What's happening?

Rush is replying to a message Qubine sent him about half a day ago. Qubine stares at it, suddenly unsure what he should or could say.

**Q:** Are you still angry with David?

**R:** No I realised I was being an oversensitive prat and apologised.

**Q:** I wouldn't say you were oversensitive but glad to know things have been sorted out.

Looking at the screen, Qubine tries to figure out how best to approach the actual topic. This isn't really the right place to talk, even on messages.

**Q:** It'd be easier to talk on the phone. May I call you in half an hour?

**R:** Sure.

It doesn't take Qubine too long to check into the accommodation on Elysion. Being one of the earlier arrivals, he has been given a larger room and gets one of the very limited double beds all to himself. This is perfectly fine by him; he does like having a lot of space.

He calls Rush and puts the phone on speaker so that he can be unpacking his bag at the same time.

"Hello?"

"Rush. Sorry for taking up your time."

"No worries I'm not busy. What's up?"

Qubine pauses, then picks up his suit and hangs it up. It hasn't wrinkled in the case. Good. "It's about David. Things are difficult recently, and he is very overworked. Frankly, for all that he does, he ought to be paid twice his salary. There are also one or two issues which he doesn't want to talk about."

"Hmm. He told me before that he doesn't like talking about stuff because it just makes him more worked up. Talking makes him think about it harder and then he gets angry."

"Ah... I see." Qubine can see the logic behind that, to an extent. "Well, I'm exhausted on ideas on how to help him, and I'm useless at cheering people up, which is where you come in. It's the sort of time a few jokes or encouraging words would be appreciated, I think."

"Okay. I'll try."

A suit, two sets of uniform, a computer and some essentials. Qubine unpacks all of it; he's here for a week and doesn't want to be rummaging through a case everyday.

"Anyway. How are you getting on, Rush?"

"Me? I'm fine? Hey isn't this call expensive?"

"I don't have to pay for it." Also long distance calls are only expensive for home users. If Qubine's calls are charged at the same rate civilians are charged, it might be the one single thing that would make the army sack him.

"Haha. Well, I'm alright, just scratching my head writing an essay on the main reasons behind the last interplanetary war. So far I've got 'because people were being stupid'."

"Then you have a firm grasp of the fundamentals. You just need to be specific about how people were stupid."

"Hmm okay." Rush laughs. "Hey, I've been wanting to ask, what's your specialisation? Or what was? I don't know if it's relevant anymore now that you're a commander..."

"Triple-E." Electrical and electronics engineering. "Technically I still belong to the engineering corp. I seldom work in the field anymore, but I try to keep up with it."

"Ah, right. That's the one thing I'm not good at!"

"Have you been told to start thinking about specialisations?" Qubine asks, and Rush makes an uh-huh sound. "The tutors should be able to advise."

"You say that, but every tutor I've asked just told me to do their thing!"

Curious, Qubine goes to the desk where he's left his computer. "Give me a second, I'll have a look at your results so far."

"What? Wait, you can do that?"

"I was supervisor for the Elite Programme and have special access rights," says Qubine with a smirk as Rush screams about this being embarrassing. "David must've seen your scores too, since he actually taught you."

"Yeah but—"

"Please do stop overreacting." Qubine brings up records of the current cadets on Celapaleis. Rush... Rush... there he is. Well, well. Now he sees why Rush has problems deciding and why the tutors want him; his results are stellar across the board. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You're an all-rounder, which means you have the luxury of choosing whichever field, or fields, you enjoy the most."

"I... like everything?"

Odd. If anyone else said that Qubine would have just rolled his eyes. But the way Rush says it just makes him chuckle. "What an awful situation to be in."

"What did Dave do?"

"Ground combat, and diplomacy. Yes he did two majors." Most people would choose — or would only be allowed to choose — to do one major specialisation, or a major and a minor if they're proved capable. But of course David chose to do more.

"That's quite the combination. It's like two completely opposite things."

"Just different approaches to resolving situations."

"I guess, if you put it that way."

"David was an elite and... I wouldn't say 'arrogant', but he was definitely... bold, as a youngster. He was superb, but I really wouldn't recommend that you copy him; you would not have time to yourself for the rest of your career."

"I was thinking maybe taking a major and a minor. Just need to decide which."

"What interests do you have? As in hobbies."

"Hmm... I play music sometimes. I'm tolerable on the guitar and stuff."

"That can be useful. It depends on the individual ship's culture, but for example on mine, if you could provide entertainment then you could occasionally escape cleaning duty. Same for skills like hairdressing, massage, even sewing."

"Huh. That's pretty cool."

"Keeping a large amount of people healthy and motivated requires more than just setting them tasks. But music won't contribute to a specialisation. Anything else? Are you into programming?"

"Nah."

"How are you with languages? We have a chronic shortage of translators."

Rush makes a sound of surprise. "I learned mainland Celapaleian at school, and speak enough of two of the dialects to get by at the restaurant, chatting with the customers and such... I speak Eulam, obviously, but nobody uses it anyway? And I guess Standard doesn't count? How about you?"

That's not bad. "Fewer than you. Other than Standard and Celapaleian, I only know Undelwaltian."

"Wow, now that's pretty ace! I heard Undelwaltian is really hard and auto-translation doesn't work well. I guess you should learn one like that if you're gonna learn anything, huh?"

"Something like that." Best just gloss over it; Qubine isn't going to reveal that Undelwaltian is actually his native tongue after spending so long perfecting a Celapaleian accent. "Anyway, you probably have a decent foundation, if languages is something you'd like to pursue."

"Hmm. I guess that really would be pretty useful, since I want to go places. I could probably do that as a minor."

"Have a think about it."

"I will, thanks. I like the idea of being able to really communicate with people," says Rush. "For my major specialisation, I think I might rule out the engineering ones, and ground combat; I'll have to fight anyway if I'm needed, right, there's no need to put myself on the front-front line when there are people better at it than me. So maybe... piloting, or gunners, or medic, or logistics... Oh sorry I don't mean to keep talking about this!"

"That's quite all right. Just remember it's not set in stone; if it turns out a discipline doesn't suit you, you can apply for a switch."

"Yeah, I'll remember that. But it's always nice to get things right first time," says Rush. "Anyway. How're you? Not as overworked as Dave I hope?"

"I get a lot of work, most of which can be delegated. Most of the time I just sit around sipping tea."

"Haha... somehow I don't think I should believe you. Also you spend far too much time with Dave."

"Unlike him, my circulatory system is filled with blood, not tea."

"Too much of that isn't good for you anyway. All that caffeine," says Rush with a short laugh. "Says I, who is trying to wean himself off coffee."

"Really? You don't seem the coffee type."

"What happened was, there's this sugar which tastes really nice in coffee, so I..."

They keep chatting until Rush gets dragged off to a flight simulator tournament. Apparently some things never change — Qubine can recall similar tournaments from his own cadet days. That was 16 years ago, gosh.

He goes to wake his computer up so that he can do some work, and catches himself smiling in the reflection on the darkened screen.

David was right. Rush is quite nice to talk to.

 

David dithers between taking his pilot Emma, or his vice-captain Torgal, to the presentation. On the one hand, women are still underrepresented both within the army and within Congress which is plainly unacceptable at this day and age. But one can say the same about sovanis, although the chief reason for the low recruitment figures is to do with sovani culture of keeping out of other people's conflict. Basically, lack of women is more to do with historical sexism, whereas lack of sovanis isn't linked with racism.

Those considerations aside, taking Emma would be good experience for her. David doesn't really know what it might be yet, but he sees Emma doing even greater things in the future. But the attendees would expect to see the vice-captain rather than the pilot. And to be honest, with Torgal there, David is sure there would be fewer questions at the end of the presentation simply because Torgal seems intimidating.

After consulting them both, David caves and brings Torgal. It's right for the vice-captain to be there, and David is too tired to suffer questions.

On the second day of Congress, straight after breakfast in a session scheduled opposite David's father's seminar, David and Torgal spend an hour and 30 minutes explaining the Valeria Heart trial programme and telling people that it is worthwhile and should continue. David hopes he's convinced them. With this kind of thing it's almost all about _how_ he talked, not _what_ he said, and he's confident in both even though he's tired and his mood is absolutely rotten.

He's smashed it, but performance doesn't mean much against red tape, budget limits and sometimes just plain stupidity and pettiness. The man in charge of strategic funding whom everyone calls the Conqueror was at the presentation. He is nicknamed such for a reason — when he deems a captain unworthy of their ship, he does not hesitate to take the ship away. Having learned that the two ships that followed the Heart's footsteps have both stumbled heavily, David knows the programme is in serious trouble and the Valeria Heart is a hair's breadth away from ending up in the Conqueror's hands.

Damn, He had thought he would feel better after getting this task out of the way, but it's only getting imminent doom replaced by impending doom.

Lying chest-down on his bed, he stares at the cats being projected by the visistone Qubine lent him. It would be nice, wouldn't it, to run a cat cafe. What if he quits this job and starts a business using the money from the sale of his flat?

God, he really should not think like this even as a joke. It just makes him feel like he's having a midlife crisis. Besides, that's called "running away". He can't do that just because things aren't going right.

But it'd be nice though, to be away from all this bureaucracy for just a little while. Not that there's any chance HR would approve his immediate holiday application. At least he's managed to secure one in six months, when Rush graduates from training. Six months isn't too long to wait.

With nowhere he really needs to be for the rest of the day, David just lies there and watches the 3D cat video until his phone vibrates in his pocket. A new document has arrived, containing details on the passenger — just one this time — the Valeria Heart will be ferrying back to Athlum after Congress.

David reads it, then buries his face in the pillow, which helpfully muffles his frustrated yell.

The passenger is Gideon.

David isn't even surprised anymore. Why miss out on a perfect opportunity to make his life even harder? Now he can spend days trapped on a ship with a man he doesn't want to talk to while avoiding questions from his crew. Lovely.

He calls Torgal.

"Captain."

"Info on our next passenger just arrived."

"Yes, I saw."

"He is a close relative of mine."

"Oh?"

"Brief the crew. I want him treated the same as any other VIP, with the utmost professionalism. Ask no question, do not do anything funny at all."

"Yes, Captain." A pause. "May I suggest that you let me handle things from Central Command for the rest of this week?"

David frowns. "That's not your job."

"As a matter of fact, it is," says Torgal. The point is debatable, really. "We are a small ship so it hasn't been an issue for a while, but since we're becoming busier, I think you require assistance."

"Well..."

"We can discuss this in more detail on the journey back to Athlum. There should be nothing on your schedule for the rest of Congress, I will handle incoming communications and let you know if anything requires your attention."

It's not worth arguing. At this stage, David would be stupid to refuse offers of help. "Okay. Thank you."

After the call, David eventually goes back to the Valeria Heart to use the gym in hope that he can work some of the frustration out of his system. There is gym equipment on Elysion Space Station too, but nothing specifically designed for his right arm. He just doesn't want to contemplate the possibility of ripping out the connection socket while doing deadlifts.

The exercise is much needed, particularly after days of sitting down at a table, but it doesn't make him feel any better; his problems are too big for a burst of endorphins to mask.

He should just take things as they come. Everything is now out of his control anyway, there is nothing he can do anymore. Maybe he can persuade Gideon to not contact his family, but if Gideon is determined then it's not like David can really stop him. And if Valeria Heart is grounded, his crew are highly skilled and they will find new positions easily. It would be a huge shame, it would be like splitting a family apart, but they would be able to handle it.

As for David himself... there is no place he can return to on the Umbermarici anymore. Even if Qubine hadn't just got himself a new vice-captain, it would be wrong to go back and take up a post many people had their eyes on.

He would just have to go wherever he is needed, and make new friends all over again.

With that thought, he finally gets off the machines and jumps into the shower. There is a message on his phone waiting for him when he's cleaned and dried.

**R:** Have you ever seen a sovani juggle?

Even from Rush, that is a random question. Also, what time is it at Lamberro right now?

**D:** No. Enlighten me?

In comes a short video of a silver-coloured sovani juggling some balls with all four hands. It is dizzying to watch.

 **D:**

**R:** Have you ever seen a sovani juggle vitaeroots?

Another video arrives, featuring exactly what Rush has just described, with eight vitaeroots being tossed between four hands. And it's not even the same sovani as the previous video. The circus skill is incredible and, with the clip occasionally showing the root vegetable spinning in the air in slow motion, very funny.

**D:** Why are you looking at juggling sovanis? Where do you find these things?

**R:** Have you even seen a sovani juggle qsitis?

No way that can be real. Impossible.

David waits.

**R:** Nah, neither have I.  
**R:** You really thought I had a video didn't you 

David covers his face with a hand and starts laughing. He actually fell for that.

**D:** ...  
**D:** I don't even know how to react anymore. It's been a long day.

**R:** Are you looking after yourself? Don't get hurt.

**D:** It's all non-combat. It's just my brain being hurt. But I have a few days off now.

**R:** Good. Please remember to relax. When things suck, just imagine Torgal juggling Pagus.

**D:** That might just hurt my brain more.

**R:** But you're a these things should be normal for you!

**D:** I'm a marquis, not a circus tent.

**R:** You've finally accepted your true self congrats

**D:** From now on you shall address me as Lord David.

**R:** No. You're still just Dave.

**D:** How dare you!

**R:** I'm not from Athlum. Not your subject.

**D:** !

**R:** What's with the blowjob face

David blinks a few times at the message. Does he sound depressed? Rush is deliberately being cheery and flirty.

 **D:** That's not blowjob face. This is: .

 **R:** I thought that's just kissy face. THAT EMOJI WILL NEVER BE THE SAME AGAIN.  
**R:** FINALLY TRUMPED AT THE EMOJI GAME.

**D:** My condolences?

**R:** I'M SO PROUD OF YOU.

**D:** Can I be Lord David now?

**R:** Maybe. Once in a while.

**D:** Better than nothing I suppose.  
**D:** Right, I'm off to lunch. Go back to sleep.

**R:** Whoopsie?

It is the middle of the night at Lamberro, according to David's watch. Rush must have worked out that David is where he was this time last year — at Congress on Elysion Space Station — and timed this conversation to suit.

**R:** Don't forget: Torgal juggling Pagus.

**D:** I won't be able to forget even if I tried.


	26. Chapter 26

Ghor mutters about having known that something must be up, although it's clear that he really had no idea his friends and colleagues have got together to prepare a birthday surprise for his 50th. It was hard work just luring him to the bar on the top level, though. Perhaps it didn't help that Qubine isn't known for drinking. For a while he thought he would become the weakest link in the chain and the whole plan would fall apart, but he's finally managed to get the man where he needs to be.

"I should have known. Whenever you have that glint in your eyes, you're up to no good," says Ghor, turning to Qubine after the embarrassing singing and toasting.

Making no comment to the remark, Qubine hands over a small item. "From Lettie and me."

Watched by two dozen people, it takes Ghor just a moment to tear away the wrapping paper to reveal the gill dye.

"You cheeky little..."

Qubine just shrugs amidst barely suppressed giggles. "You're going grey fast, old bat."

It's an odd, but not bad, feeling to be here, amongst some of the crew from the Malystrix, a group of people with hearts so big they didn't only save Qubine and Letitia's lives, they also put a roof over their heads and made damn sure that the two of them felt secure, comfortable, and welcomed. They are one of the reasons why Qubine enlisted.

As everyone tucks into slices of sweet nut roast — yamaan celebration food of choice — more insults and updates are exchanged. The Malystrix will soon be decommissioned, replaced by a new ship named Bilqis. Although this is great news for the crew, the thought fills Qubine with melancholy.

About an hour into the gathering, Qubine's phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Are you busy?" The familiar voice belongs to David.

"Not really. Are you?"

"I'm not doing anything."

"Come to the Heavenly Terrace."

"Okay."

David shows up twenty minutes later, changed out of his uniform and into dress shirt and jeans since the day's official events are over. Qubine waves him over.

"What's going on? Why is my favourite loner bar busier than usual?"

"Ghor's birthday," Qubine explains. "You've still not met him, have you?"

David shakes his head. "I've never had the chance."

That's easily rectified. Qubine brings two of the most important people in his life together so that he can make introductions. It's odd to think that up until now they only know of each other by reputation. David is the sort of man who enjoys having connections, but he's never deliberately asked to meet anyone as far as Qubine can remember.

"Captain David, am I right?" Ghor catches sight of them before Qubine starts to speak, and offers his hand.

"Captain Ghor. It is a real honour to meet you." There's a slight pause as their hands connect, the look in Ghor's eyes changes, then David smiles wider. "It's quite amazing how yamas can always tell. I lost it a few years ago."

A fleshy eyebrow rises slowly. "My condolences. Was it through battle or accident?"

"Battle of Castellum."

The one-handed shake changes into two-handed. "My respect to you, young man."

David looks genuinely taken aback. "I... from a veteran like you! I don't... when some didn't even come home..."

Ghor pulls a face. "That's to think about tomorrow at the memorial service. For now, accept the sentiment."

"Then... thank you. But today is hardly about me. Happy birthday — may I get you anything?"

Ghor jabs a thumb over his shoulder, at the small crowd assembled here for him. "I have about a dozen drinks still lined up. Get me something that'll soak it up, and help me finish that nut roast, will you?"

A slice of the roast and quite a few glasses of something bubbly later, the conversation tails off when someone else grabs Ghor's attention. Qubine, who has stayed mostly quiet for a while, finally tips his head and smiles lopsidedly.

"I don't think I have ever seen you react this way to anyone before," he remarks, stopping short of pointing out how adorable David is when he's awestruck.

"Well, it's Captain Ghor," replies David, as if that explains everything. Maybe it does — Ghor is a bona fide war hero, known for his battle prowess, his rigorous principles and his humility, but that's not the man that comes to mind when Qubine thinks of him. Instead, Qubine always remembers him as the bumbling and earnest yama who did everything he could for the two mitras he had somehow adopted.

"Would it help if I told you he is best friends with Hermeien?"

David's eyes widen. "Hermeien? As in captain of the Gw—"

"The Gwayn, yes. Hermeien would be here if he wasn't in the next solar system. The two of them karaoke together sometimes."

As expected, David grimaces, but with a kind of exaggeration that's obviously for Qubine's entertainment. "Well, that certainly diminishes that sense of presence somewhat."

"He did look after my sister and me even after we stole our way onto his ship, though. Good man." Qubine gestures at a nearby empty table. He will never understand the appeal of standing around drinking when there are seats available. "But don't tell him I said that."

"He was the one..."

"It was his ship that we broke into. He could and should have turned around and put us back on Undelwalt after we were found, bearing in mind we had no evidence to prove anything we said." It must be the alcohol; the words come so easily. "Taking us could have caused a diplomatic incident."

"Instead, Celapaleis also believed you. Rather than a diplomatic incident, you triggered an empire-wide investigation." They sit down, put aside the glasses that are already there, and David picks up the order tablet. "A good captain knows the rules, and knows when to break them."

"Yes. I'm glad it was Ghor's ship that we broke into."

"So you—" David stops all of a sudden, his eyes on the cocktail menu. "I was going to say that you got a happy ending, but that's not right."

"No."

"I apologise."

"There's no need to." If there was a choice, Qubine would have chosen to simply not have anything happen to start with. "Successfully escaped from the cult" isn't a true happy ending, just not a bad one. "As things stand right now, I'm quite content. But I don't know what a 'happy ending' would be, for me."

"There's nothing you really want in life?"

"Right now? I can't think of anything. How about you?"

A roll of the eyes. "Don't ask me deep questions, I have enough things bothering me already."

"You started it."

"Well, damn. No, I don't know." David leans back into the sofa, crossing one leg over the other. Now that they are sitting down, Qubine can't help but notice what his friend is actually wearing.

"David, is that leather?" Is David actually wearing leather trousers cut into the style of denim jeans? At Congress?

"Hmm? No." David chuckles. "It's synthetic. Does look like leather under some lighting, though. I have a matching jacket," he adds, and laughs again when Qubine can't help but pull a face. "It's nice, but I never wear the two together. That's too much even for me."

"I don't understand fashion," is all Qubine can say to that.

"You did need my help to get the suit you're wearing right now."

"If by 'help' you mean your over-the-top reactions and compliments, then you most certainly 'helped'."

After a moment of looking perplexed, David buries his face in a hand and snickers. "I wasn't acting! You looked good. I was 19 and having genuine problems dealing with that."

Their drinks are here. Qubine has no idea what his friend has ordered, but they come in six little shot glasses. He copies David and tosses one down, feeling the bitter alcohol heating up his throat immediately. Might be just as well; he's going to need some more alcohol if they're going to talk like this all night.

He really thought David was playing it up back then, saying things like he couldn't look at Qubine because Qubine looked too seductive in the suit.

He decides he doesn't really want to think about that now.

"You were 19 and already had a favourite tailor."

"Yes. And?" David shrugs, his face darkening with a blush that could be caused by the conversation or the drink. "You ended up with a suit that's still good enough to wear now."

"For which I am grateful." This is making Qubine self-conscious. He should steer them away from this topic and onto the reason why he has pulled away from the main party with David. "How is your Congress so far?"

"I'm managing," says David, glancing towards Ghor's group. "I probably shouldn't be stealing you."

"There's no 'stealing'. I'll see them around enough this week."

With so much suddenly happening to David, Qubine has told himself to spend more time with his friend. This is a good sort of setting — after a few drinks, maybe David would relax enough to finally open up a bit? Besides, still puzzled by the DNA request from the police, Qubine himself could do with some unwinding and if he is going to drink, there is no one he trusts more and whose company he enjoys better than David's.

"Even so."

"Back on Warrior Town you said you would talk to me when we're here."

Normally Qubine would not push an issue so hard, but it's getting to the point that he thinks pushing is necessary.

"Fine." David picks up another shot glass and looks away. "Do you think there's a way to make sure I don't run into Gideon this week?"

Qubine also drinks, out of companionship. This second shot is still bitter, but also sweet, and extremely heady. "No... but it's unlikely anyway. This station is huge, it's impossible to find someone unless you've arranged to meet them."

"Or I could just stay on the Heart until the end of the week."

"Do you hate him?"

David hesitates. "No. But I hate the complications this is causing... I'm sorry, we were talking your escape to Celapaleis just now. The problem with my dad is trivial, let's not worry about it."

"This isn't a competition on which one of us had the worse parent," although Qubine would clearly win by lightyears if it was. "Your feelings are valid."

"'Your feelings are valid'," David repeats with a snort. "You make it so obvious you've had extensive psychotherapy... and maybe I've already had too much to drink. Punch me if I talk like that again."

"Why? I don't mind." Qubine picks up the two remaining shot glasses and gives one to David. "Also, you're nowhere near drunk."

They toss down the final shot, which is pink, fragrant, and delicately sweet. Out of the trio, Qubine likes this one the best.

"What are these, anyway?"

Reaching for the order tablet, David swipes around on the screen until he finds the right page. "Romance'. I think we drank them in the wrong order. Should have started out sweet and ended with bitter resentment."

Interesting. "Do you have issues or does the bartender have issues?"

David opens his mouth, but says nothing for a second, then clearly changes his mind on his words. "Everyone has issues," he says, eyeing Qubine. "What are you ordering?"

"Revenge'." The menu does list the ingredients but Qubine still has no idea what it is, only that it comes in cocktail glasses. "What is your issue?"

"What's yours?

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you've been single ever since I've known you. But if you were aromantic I think you would've just told me."

"I would have," Qubine agrees.

"So why don't you date? Are you worried?" David asks quietly, and rather respectfully.

"No..." Qubine tries to take a moment to check that he isn't just lying on impulse, but the alcohol is not making it easy to think. "I've just not met anyone I'd like to go out with... I think."

Hmm. Hold on. Perhaps he shouldn't have said that. He should've just lied and said he didn't want a relationship. Well, too late now.

A servbot arrives with their drinks. Qubine passes a glass to David, the man who had asked him out before. "Sorry."

"Don't be. That was a long time ago" David's smile looks empty. "And someone told me before that going out with the wrong person is worse than not going out with anyone."

The new cocktail is sweet, as expected since it's called "Revenge". There's a sprinkling of a spicy powder on the rim of the glass that makes the whole drink taste a little bit dangerous.

"So," David turns towards Qubine, an elbow on the back of the sofa, cocktail still in hand, "what kind of person do you prefer?"

"Someone... nice? That's too broad a question."

"Race?"

"So long as they're mitra."

"Gender?"

"Irrelevant." Past experience told Qubine women tended to be gentler, but logically he knew it was only out of necessity. The men didn't require him to have an erection. The women did. But he'd need many more drinks before he would consider elaborating. "Why? Are you planning to set me up again?"

"Maybe." David sips his cocktail, then licks his lips to clean the chili powder from them.

Speaking of setting up... "David? Why aren't you going out with Rush?"

A sidelong glance. "Where did that come from? And by the way, have you been talking to Rush about me?"

"I mentioned you in conversation. Why?"

"He's... there's been a bit of cheering up this afternoon, out of the blue."

"Nothing wrong with that, surely."

"No."

"I don't tell anyone things I think you don't want them to know," Qubine says. "Back to what I was asking: why not Rush? He seems to make you very happy. You two care about each other a great deal."

"That doesn't automatically mean romance."

Qubine just looks at him. David cringes a little, shifts, and puts his cocktail down.

"He doesn't like me like that, it's obvious. And I'm never asking a friend out again."

Oh.

Once bitten, twice shy. It wasn't wrong for Qubine to have turned him down that time — he honestly was not interested in David that way — but _how_ he did it... that was one of the most poorly-handled events in his life. He did it all wrong, all so-surprised-he-neotenised-into-a-ten-year-old, the-appearance-he-reserves-for-work wrong. No amount of apology Qubine had immediately given could have rectified anything. David had smiled and took it all in his stride, but he had always been a kind and forgiving man. What happened was clearly hurtful, and apparently the conclusion he drew from it was to not do it again.

"I'm sorry."

"Like I said, he doesn't have feelings for me anyway. And I don't like him enough to take the risk, that's all," David murmurs. "And relationships are hard work. I'm not good at them. I don't know how to start one, or to keep one."

Qubine doesn't know what to say. "I guess the xiphosian tradition makes things harder?"

"Hmm. A friend told me I could try monogamy. It'd make many things much more straightforward."

A monogamous xiphosian. That would be unusual. "Can you do that?"

"Xiphosian polyamory is more a... social construct than anything else. It'd be strange, but I wouldn't rule it out," David says. "Though I'd need to learn how to have sex with just one person."

Taking another long sip of his cocktail, Qubine nearly chokes. David grins.

"I'm joking. It's just..." he suddenly looks more solemn again. "I don't know if I'm ready for a new relationship yet."

"Why?"

"I was a mess after the last one. I don't want anyone to have that much power over me again."

David's last relationship, if it's the one Qubine knows about, then it had ended a few years ago, but David never mentioned it and Qubine didn't find out until the day David asked him out. It was when he queried if David wanted him to join his existing relationship that he learned it had already ceased existing. If David had been "a mess" as he's just said, Qubine had not noticed.

"What happened anyway?"

"They cheated on me. I found out when I was sent home early after Castellum and there was an extra person living in my house."

"Dear god." Going home after fighting a war for two years, losing a limb in the process, to that sort of a welcome. That is just... Qubine has not felt quite so angry for long time. "Was that why you refused to do your rehabilitation on Athlum?"

"Well, I was also your vice-captain. I should be on the ship as much as I could, be an example for the crew."

David's glass is already empty. Qubine is vaguely aware that they're drinking too fast, but he doesn't care because David's tongue is loosening.

"I'm sorry... I should have noticed something was wrong."

A shrug. "I had the arm to focus on. There were bad days, but people just thought it was because of my arm."

"That doesn't change the fact that I should have noticed."

"You knowing about it wouldn't have made things better."

"Wouldn't it?" Qubine's brows furrow. "You really don't believe that talking helps?"

"You do?"

"As someone who has had extensive psychotherapy, I can tell you it works."

"Maybe it depends on the person."

"Don't you want people to care about you?"

"I don't like being needy."

"So when I told you about my life on Undelwalt, I was being needy."

David freezes, then he looks genuinely annoyed for a second. "You know what I mean, so don't play that card."

Okay, okay. That was a bit low. And maybe it did depend on the person. Didn't Rush say that David doesn't like to discuss his problems because doing so only made him angry? And Qubine himself is no stranger to pretence. Perhaps he shouldn't judge David's coping mechanisms.

He does his best "I'm sorry" face. "Pick something. I'll drink it."

After a pregnant pause, David's smile returns. He takes the tablet. "I'm going to get us some soft drinks, because I'm a nice person."

It'd be sensible to stop with the alcohol, although Qubine is not much closer to learning about David's current source of stress, or making him feel better. But he has found out other things: that David doesn't hate his father. That he does have (maybe only a little bit of) feelings for Rush which he thinks Rush doesn't reciprocate. That he's very apprehensive about romance. And that, when there is a problem, he can be extremely good at hiding it.

After making the new order, David stands, makes a comment about how strong the drinks were, then excuses himself to the bathroom. Qubine watches him walk.

David is truly a very handsome man. And he is intelligent, hardworking, and strong. And loyal, and supportive, and kind. What kind of heartless morons cheat on a man like that?

And what kind of idiot turns down a man like that?

Qubine closes his eyes.

Why isn't he in love with David? Compared with many other people he knows, he doesn't think he's even a picky person. Maybe there is a reason. Maybe he's still a bit broken, that could be why there still isn't a single person he wants to date when statistically, at his age, he should have met at least a handful by now.

He should be concerned. His therapist certainly would not be dismissive if he raised the topic. But it's been years since his last session; when he sees her these days, it's for coffee, or she's at The Amber to play with the cats. It'd be regrettable for them to go from friends back to doctor-and-patient.

Well, he has a long shore leave coming up. He'll think about this then.

"Are you all right there, urchin?"

A shadow falls over the table. Qubine looks up at Ghor and tries to look offended, though he knows his smile is giving it away.

"Perfectly good. Have you come to hide from all the drinks you can't handle?"

"You try to look after a child, and all you get is impudence..."

"It's called 'sass', old man."

Ghor nearly rolls his eyes. "I best just leave you mitra boys with each other."

"You do realise I'm now older than you were when you found me."

"I didn't find you. You disabled the security system on my ship and then boarded it."

"Details, details. Go and do your old yama things with your aged friends."

Ghor really does leave this time, assured that Qubine is not drinking excessively for any reason other than that he's socialising with a close friend. It's a good thing that Ghor is leaving him alone because as he sits here, he can feel the alcohol from earlier starting to get to his head. It's not affecting his eyesight yet, but gosh, he feels strange. Lightheaded. A little bit giddy. When he visited Athlum last year and went to that pub with David, he was pretty sure they stopped drinking when he got to this stage and David chivalrously took him back to his hotel.

Well, he can see David returning now. They will be responsible, sensible adults. They are going to have their lemonades and then go to bed.

 

Was it the champagne or the shots? Probably both. If they kept this up, David knew he would soon be sending nonsensical drunken texts to Rush again. That is if he didn't die from stabbing himself after saying one too many stupid things before that. Snapping at Qubine when he mentions Undelwalt was very, very not good.

And god knows what Qubine is like when he's properly drunk? Better make sure he gets back to his room soon.

At least the world isn't spinning yet. David splashes some water onto his face and dries it quickly before leaving the bathroom.

He crosses the floor, passing by its huge glass bar that is the feature of this establishment, and makes it half way back to his table before a mitra catches his attention.

"Excuse me?"

The man who has just approached David has a southern Nagapurian accent. Well groomed, very underdressed for a Nagapurian, quite thin. He looks to be around David's age, or maybe a little younger, with no noticeable trait to tell David which mitra race he belongs to.

"Yes?"

The man looks a little abashed, with his face slightly lowered and his eyes cast upwards to look at David. "Um, if you don't mind me asking, I've noticed that you've been talking with Captain Qubine for quite a bit. Are the two of you going out?"

Oh. One of those. This one is interested in Qubine. David has to tell himself no, don't question the man if he thinks he's actually good enough for Qubine. Instead, David shakes his head.

"No no, we're old friends." He gets asked this often enough to have a standard answer.

"Ah, in that case... are you seeing anyone at the moment?"

Wait. What?

David is so surprised he puts a hand on his chest and asks, in the most cliched fashion, "me?" The man nods, and David nearly stutters. The most incredible mitra in existence is sitting over there, but he's the one being asked? "I, oh, no, I'm not," he says, hoping he just sounds surprised rather than drunk, although in reality he is very much both.

The man smiles, and looks hopeful. "Then, may I ask if you'd like to be my partner?"

It takes long enough for David to comprehend the question that the man has a sudden realisation of his own.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you're not Nagapurian?" he asks.

"I'm Athlumian. Do I sound..."

"No, it's just that my friend told me..." the man turns around and looks at someone sitting at a table, who is grinning from ear to ear. "Never mind, I'll kick him later." He starts to flush. "So, this might be a bit strange to explain but on Nagapur, we have this—"

"It's okay, I understand what you are asking. It's just unexpected. But very flattering." God. Is he really being asked? Here, on Elysion Space Station during Congress? What should he do? "It's just that I've already had quite a lot to drink, I'm really in no state to make decisions."

"I see... you hold your alcohol very well."

"And you are very good at giving compliments." When drunk, always say no to offers of any kind except help to get home by someone he knows — that's a rule David sticks to. But this man looks so sincere, and what he is asking is rather sweet, so David doesn't want to just turn him down without thinking. "Can I... get back to you tomorrow?"

The man smiles again. "Yes. Yes of course."

David gets his phone out and searches around for a while before remembering how to enable the contact card function. The man laughs softly and puts his phone on top.

"You really are drunk."

"I know. I need to get to bed soon."

The devices make a sound after the transfer. David reads his screen and hopes he remember his Nagapurian pronunciation. "Jakob?"

"Yes." Jakob is just as unsure about his Athlumian. "David?"

David nods. "I will definitely contact you tomorrow, I guess after the service — if I don't, it'd be because I've drunk too much and forgotten everything from tonight. Please call me, don't feel bad about it."

"Okay. Thank you... you're very kind. I'm glad I've asked you, whatever you decide later."

Wow, that is so sweet. David can't help but smile, and he waits until Jakob goes first before he heads back to his own table. It just seems like the right thing to do; if he's making the man wait for an answer then at least he shouldn't look like he's running off.

"A friend of yours?" Qubine asks even before David has sat down again.

"No, we've just met." Jakob knows of Qubine though, which isn't much of a surprise; around these parts, Qubine can be considered famous. "He asked if I wanted to be his partner."

It's funny watching the gears in Qubine's head turning slowly as he glances between David and his new friend at the other table. "Oh. Well. If you want to go then don't let me keep you."

David snorts and perches himself on the armrest of the sofa, just next to Qubine. "You seriously think it's okay to hook up at Congress."

"Given your current circumstances, I wouldn't blame you if you want a bit of fun." Qubine sounds nonchalant, but David wonders if he's just putting it on. "Besides, we're the same rank, I can't reprimand you anyway."

"Ooh, you can't reprimand me. I should remember that for future purposes," says David. "But he was asking in the Nagapurian sense."

Qubine's brows gather. "Remind me what that means?"

"You get a boyfriend for a few days, and you treat each other very well for those days. It's basically intense dating. But no sex unless you decide to stay together at the end of it." David sees Jakob looking this way, and smiles at him. "Usually it doesn't work out, I hear, but the process is very nice. Very feel-good, as it were."

"Hmm, sounds like you're up for it."

"I'll think about it. I'm too drunk to say yes to any proposition right now."

"Weak."

Oh, David is weak now, is he? He slides off the armrest, stands, and points at the shiny composite floor. "Stand up."

Qubine laughs like he knows he's made a mistake. He grips the edge of his seat cushion as if that would help. "I don't think so."

"Come on." David curls his fingers a few times, gesturing for Qubine to stand, his other hand reaching for the phone in his pocket — he's just remembered something. "Let's see how not drunk you are."

"No no it's fine. You've made your point."

"Don't make me make you."

"All right, all right." Finally Qubine concedes, and very, very carefully rises from his seat, his face rapidly changing as he does so, and he clearly wobbles. "Oh... oh, _fuck_."

It's always hilarious when Qubine swears, probably because he very rarely does so. Quickly David steadies him by wrapping an arm around his waist. And then—

"David!" Qubine gasps when he is suddenly lifted up off the floor. "What are you doing?"

It's hard to get a photo without help, so David compromises and takes a snap of Qubine's dangling feet and sends it to Rush with no explanation.

"You really don't weigh very much."

"I know that without you doing this. Put me down!"

Well, the captain demands it. David sets him down without ceremony, and Qubine sways again before clinging onto David's elbow for stability. "What was that for?"

"Rush and I were talking about how I should be able to pick you up with one arm."

"Hmm." Qubine seems to be having a thought. Then he bends his knees, wraps his arms around David's hips and, with a bit of obvious straining, lifts David off the floor.

The shaky elevation is not great at all. It's quite impressive that Qubine can do this though, considering he's gefyrian and David is probably twice his weight.

"God," says David when his feet are on the floor again. God bless solid ground. "Okay. I have a suggestion for a new fun thing to do, it's called 'sitting down'."

"That sounds marvellous. Let's give it a try."

Just as they settle down again, a servbot arrives. Good, their drinks are here.

"I can't believe you managed to pick me up," says David, retrieving the tumblers of lemonade he's ordered.

"I do pass my fitness tests you know," Qubine gulps down his soft drink as if that would clear his head, "without too much cheating."

"I know that... hmm? What did you say?" What was that about cheating the fitness test?

"What?"

"What did you say?" Has Qubine just made a joke? It must be a joke, right?

"Did I say what? I haven't said anything. Why is that thing still here?"

Qubine points at the servbot, which hasn't left although David has taken his order, and it's still carrying a pitcher of something red as well as two tall glasses. Confused, Qubine studies the screen, then touches a button on it. It seems like there is a recorded message.

"Drink up, brat."

That's Ghor's voice.

Ghor — space captain, war hero, Qubine's foster father — is looking their way, pointing and nearly smiling.

"Oh, no," Qubine says, actually looking like he's in despair.

"My respect for Ghor has reached new heights." With a snort, David takes the pitcher and plonks it down in front of Qubine, nearly spilling it. "Be brave. It was nice knowing you."

"This really will kill me."

"It'd be very rude to refuse."

"There are two glasses. You're going down with me."

A quick sniff of the red liquid tells David this is very definitely not a mocktail. There are indeed two glasses, so Ghor intended for them to share. And it would be, for the lack of a better word, shitty of him not to help.

Sobriety is out of the question, then.

He pulls out his wallet and takes out a blister packet of pills, giving one to Qubine. "Take this."

Doing as he's told, Qubine washes the pill down with lemonade. "What is it?"

David arches an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you ask that _before_ swallowing it?"

"I trust you."

"Just something that slows down absorption. We're going to try to outlast that lot." David nods towards Ghor's group, then reaches for the order tablet. "And we're getting some food. That'll help slow things down as well."

"You're impressively equipped for this."

"You kept delegating your socials to me when I was your second. I had to learn quickly." A bit of bread, some cold meats, finger food with no mess. Right. All set. David weaves his fingers together and stretches his arms. "Preparations are complete, Captain."

Qubine laughs, a little helpless. He pours from the pitcher and gives David a glass. "To battle then?"

They clink their glasses together.

"Yes sir."

 

"Is this still your only suit?" David asks as Qubine shrugs off his jacket; it's getting a bit warm.

"I don't need more."

"Of course you don't _need_ another one. You don't need to have long hair either. Or the biggest bed on the Umbermarici. You still have them."

"As a matter of fact I do need this hair. I look awful with shorter hair."

"You," David pauses, and points at Qubine dramatically, "are far more vain than you let on."

Qubine copies David and points at his friend. "Pot," he says, then points at himself, "kettle."

"No. Because I admit to being vain." David wags his finger once. "Anyway. You need another suit. A black one. We'll go back to the tailor's."

"No, because you'd lose it if I got a black one. And they'd fondle me again."

"I'm not 19 anymore, I can control myself. And he wasn't fondling you, he didn't realise you're gefyrian."

" _How?_ Look at me!" Qubine's physique is the epitome of gefyrian stereotype, narrow-shouldered and slender.

"Well you did manage to lift me off the ground. You're quite built for your race. Besides, I know people who don't even know your gender after having a whole conversation with you, let alone race."

"Really? Who?"

"As if I'd tell you!" David grins. His face is getting quite red from drinking, but Qubine is sure his own is the same too. "Anyway, you just need to accept that you confuse some people. But the tailor... he didn't really touch you did he?"

"Of course not. I would have kneed him in the nose if he did."

"Good, I'd kill him if he did, and find you another tailor, because you're still getting that suit."

"You really love suits like some people love lingerie." And for some reason, Qubine has the urge to giggle.

"Maybe. A little bit. Don't you think they look really hot?"

"They're...nice. But women look better in suits than most men do. And now I feel like getting changed."

"Don't worry I know you're off-limits. Wait are you the sort who likes to see guys in dresses then?"

Off-limits? That doesn't sound right, for some reason. Qubine decides to put this away and think about it later, assuming he still has memory of this conversation after tonight.

"I like whatever is well-cut and flattering to the person wearing it."

David rolls his eyes. "You're so PC."

"It's not political correctness. It's just not something I have a preference on." Qubine refills their glasses. He's lost count of how many they've had already; this pitcher seems to be neverending. "I don't think 'leather jackets are nice', but if someone is wearing one and looks good in it then I notice."

"All right." Drinking from his glass, David arches an eyebrow. "How do I look to you?"

"You're a good-looking man, David. And you know how to dress well. You know that and don't need to ask me."

"That's not the point. But oh well, I'll take what I can get."

What's that all about? "If you're not attractive then why would—" Qubine gestures to their left. Oh, it seems like that Nagapurian and his friend have gone. "—you have got asked out by a stranger?"

"Still not the point." David uncrosses his legs and then crosses them the other way. "But I wonder what he is, actually. Seems too thin to be a soldier. Maybe he's a researcher?"

"From the Academy? Possible. Or a diplomat, perhaps?"

"Translator?"

"Business representative?"

"Medic?"

"Reporter?"

"I don't think so. I can spot journalists."

"Intelligence? Some of them live on the computer and almost never eat or see the light of day."

David pauses for a moment, and drinks again. "Unlike the field agents."

Not knowing what to say, Qubine keeps his mouth busy with the last remaining corn chip. Wow, it's an effort just to lean forward. he feels like he might lose balance and topple to the side any moment. Perhaps David is feeling the same, or he's just tired; he sits back into the sofa and sinks into the back cushion.

"Ah, fuck."

"David?"

"I just reminded myself that Gideon is flying back to Athlum on the Heart."

That is indeed worthy of a "fuck". "He is?"

"I found out earlier today. I'm guessing admin never even made the connection that we're related."

"That... does sound like the case. What if you alert them now?"

"I'm not sure if that'll make any difference, since he's just retired. They'll still tell me to fly him." His head leaned back, David stares at the ceiling. "This whole army... I mean the management side of things is entirely shambolic, I don't even know how it's possible that everything hasn't imploded yet."

Sometimes Qubine wonders the same thing. "I have to say... over the years, things seem to have got worse, not better."

"It wasn't that great even before. For one, I shouldn't even be here to begin with."

"Because of Gideon?"

"Because of him, and that the signature on my application form was forged. No one checked." With a slow, lazy roll of his head, David meets eyes with Qubine. "I didn't have parental permission to join the Elite Programme."

That is...

Well, fuck.

"That's wrong. I can't believe they let you in!"

"Neither can I. I couldn't even drive and they were testing if I had the talent to fly a ship. They were showing me how to use weapons without even checking with my family, like, to ask them 'do you know your son's here, are you sure you want to let him kill people?'"

This is a disturbing thought. Instinctively Qubine reaches for his drink. This will make things better, right? "Why did you have to fake the signature though? Was your family against it?"

"That's because... no, I'm not drunk enough for this conversation."

How bad could it be, that David refuses to talk about it although he would talk about his father and how he lied his way into the army?

He is shaking his head at himself now. "But... I'm not sure I'm suited to being in the army anyway, I make terrible decisions and get people hurt. It's not just Emmy; the Heart's injury record is dreadful. And then reviews get pushed back because the admin system is so broken, it's like having swords dangling over your head and you're just waiting for them to drop.

"And then I got told a week ago that I had to do a presentation here to justify my ship's existence. Someone was supposed to have told me a month before that, but of course they didn't. I've had no time to pull all the data I needed together, that's why I haven't been sleeping, and neither did Emma or Torgal. Without them I'd have been screwed. But my crew shouldn't have had to do this! Emma is a top-class pilot and Torgal is a goddamn combat specialist, they shouldn't be rushing for a presentation deadline with me like some college students!" David heaves a sigh. "You can probably tell I'm angry."

"I would be, too," says Qubine, and he is. For one, he wasn't told about this although he was the person who created the Valeria Heat's trial programme. To drop that onto David with nearly no warning at all was both unfair and unprofessional. And then there is everything else he has just mentioned. "But if you're not suited to this job, then no one is."

"Ha."

Maybe this is Qubine's fault. The Valeria Heart is meant to fill a gap in the structure, but that gap is proving to be too wide. With just the one ship — the other two on the trial programme are far less successful — the team is being stretched in all directions.

"David, we've worked together for years. I know what your capabilities are. And unfortunately so does Central, who has no real idea how we work, only that we produce results."

David drags a hand down his face. He looks so drunk it's impossible to hide the fact. "It's depressing how true that is."

"And are you comparing the Heart's injury record with the Umbermarici's, because that'd—"

"I'm comparing it with patrol."

Hmm. All right. This is worrying in a different way. How often are the people on the Heart getting hurt? "Maybe," Qubine gives this a think, "you're dealing with too much; the Heart needs to be bigger. Both your ship, and the programme."

"Try telling them that. 'Don't ground my ship. In fact we need more ships. Bigger ones. But some of the time we'll be wasted on ferrying dignitaries and diplomats.'"

David's right, that's not going to work. It could be that the philosophy behind the whole programme needs tweaking — it's given too much leeway for a management structure who has no real idea how people actually work. They throw everything at the Valeria Heart, and the crew is too guilty to argue because on occasion their work can be a simple transport job.

Qubine files this away too, to think about later.

"When was the last time you took a holiday?"

The red drink has somehow reappeared in David's hand. "Hmm? You were with me. Eulam."

That's not _too_ long ago, but given the way things are, perhaps—

David can follow Qubine's trail of thought. "I can't take time off; we're too busy. And one of mine is retiring, we still need to find the right person to fill that gap."

Qubine purses his lips for a moment. "Small ships are hard work. I never have to worry about the impact of losing one person... well, unless they're above a certain rank. Whereas on your ship, every person is critical."

"All rounders are hard to find..."

"Rush will finish training in about half a year?"

That actually makes David pout. "He'd be good for the Heart, but the Heart wouldn't be good for him. Even if I still had an opening when he's ready I don't think he'd apply."

"Really?"

"Hmm. And I can't wait half a year anyway," says David. "I'll find someone... I have about 70 applicants I was going to sift through on the way here... just got stuck doing that bloody presentation instead."

"70 people going for one position? That's not bad."

"They've no idea what they're getting themselves into."

"They're hoping to work for one of the most capable people I know."

"Ha."

"Come on, David."

"Even if I'm capable... what good is that?"

Lost for words, Qubine pats David on the shoulder. David smiles and mutters a "I'm fine."

"Speaking of bureaucratic bullshit... do you remember, just before you left the Umbermarici, we were applying for some new gym equipment for decks 7 to 15?"

"Yeah. What happened?"

"It went through, but a few months after the application they suddenly turned around and said we weren't getting it."

David rolls his eyes. "Shocked, but not surprised."

"I had Darien announce we were getting a delay..."

"He must have loved you for it."

"I know. He withheld cookies. Then for another six months we tried to wrangle for the funding, until we were going to leave Celapaleis again and I realised they'd drag it out for another year. So I decided to pay for it myself."

"For all nine decks?" David sits up a bit. "Seriously?"

"I couldn't do it for some but not others," says Qubine. "Even that was complicated, it turned out. There are rules and I needed to make an application. It'd be treated as a charitable donation, the money would probably just end up elsewhere."

"I don't know whether to laugh or cry... so what did you do?"

"Just before we left port, we miraculously discovered we had exactly the equipment we needed in storage. Apparently it'd been there for a while. The quartermaster got a minor scolding for that."

David swears softly. "I bet he was happy to be scolded."

"He was, very much. And I made Darien give him cookies," says Qubine. "Summary of this story is that I had to lie to the fleet and pay from my own pocket just to keep my crew happy, healthy and sane."

David refills the glass in Qubine's hand. "That's the thing. Why do we have to jump through hoops just to do that? God, I wish I was still a vice-captain."

Did David just say... "But..."

"I love my crew. I love my ship. But before, I was... more oblivious to how broken the system is, life was so much easier. We still had to wrangle, but a bunch of us did it together whereas now it's all on my head. And when you had to do it alone I could help you with all the other things instead. I was so happy on the Umbermarici."

Fighting words, surely. No one would be content with being the second, not when there was a chance to be in command.

"You really need a holiday, David."

"I have one coming up in about... eventually."

"I mean now."

"I applied for it. They've just rejected it. And I told you the Heart's one person down already."

Qubine shifts closer so that he can put his weight against David's side, then decides his friend needs more than that, and gives him a hug. "There, there."

"Stop it I'm going to cry. I told you talking about things is a bad idea."

"You're right. My bad."

"Say, if the Heart gets grounded..."

Qubine waits. He wants to say it won't happen, but he honestly can't tell for sure. David is right: he is capable, his ship works hard, but so what?

Silence. Qubine lets go of David. "Hmm?"

"Nothing. Just wondering where I could go."

"With your skills and experience, anywhere you like, I would think."

"Anywhere?" It doesn't look like David is convinced. "I guess we'll see."

Now that Qubine has leaned to one side, it's hard to try to sit up again. He decides he isn't going to bother. Fortunately he's still holding his drink so he doesn't have to stretch for it.

"Enough about work, I think..."

"Yes..."

"Didn't you say you were selling your flat?"

"It's gone. I've sold it."

"So where are you living now?"

"With my parents. Been too busy to go house-hunting. I don't know where I want to live, actually..."

"Move to Celapaleis?"

"Haha, really?"

"Yes. Come to Celapaleis. Bring cats with you. There's this Athlumian breed that's quite wonderful, but I've forgotten the name..."

"Torgal?"

"No." Qubine chokes a laugh. David has definitely had too much to drink if he decides to make racially inappropriate jokes. "It's long, elegant..."

"Torgal?" David tries again.

"And grumpy."

"Definitely Torgal."

"Yes David, I want Torgal in the cafe. He would be a great draw... imagine all the people petting him."

David actually takes a moment to think about this, and then pulls a horrified face. "I'm not drunk enough for this," he says, then pours what remains of his glass into his mouth.

Qubine does the same. "We'll never be drunk enough for it."

They stare at each other, and Qubine is the one to crack up first. Soon they descend into fits of giggles, and can't even tell if it's because of the thought of Torgal in a cat cafe or because seeing each other drunk is very funny.

Finally, somewhat out of breath, David gets his phone out.

"Let's look for... wait, have you ever seen a juggling sovani?"

"A what?"

David brings up a video. There is indeed a juggling sovani. Qubine gapes at it and starts laughing again.

"Amazing. Why do you have that?"

"I have many amazing things. Anyway... let's look this up—"

"What, sovanis in cat cafes?"

"The Athlumian cat you were talking about!"

"Give me your phone. I'm good at looking up cat pictures."

"I'm sure you are, pussy expert."

"I certainly know far more about pussies than you ever will. And I'm going to show you more pussies than you've ever seen before."

"That's not hard, and it's not going to make me hard." David shrugs and hands his phone over. "Show me the pussies then."

"I hope you're ready."

"Hold me I'm scared."


	27. Chapter 27

"Urgh..."

"Hmm..."

Hmm?

David's eyes snap open. It's dark. Well, it's not very bright, but there's enough light to see. He's in bed. His own bed, hopefully, but the rooms on Elysion all look pretty much the same.

And he thinks he heard a voice just now.

He turns onto his side — that's his hairbrush over there, this must be his room — and sees that the desk lamp is on, and there's someone on the sofa.

"Gosh. I hope I didn't snore," that person says. It's Qubine, who is starting to sit up, still covered by a blanket.

"Even if you did, I didn't hear..."

How in the world did they end up back here? And...

David takes a look under his blanket. He's still wearing last night's clothes. His jacket is... over there, draped over the back of the chair, next to Qubine's jacket.

"What happened?" God, his throat is dry. And his head hurts. Not too badly though; it could be much worse. 

"I don't know, but I'm going to use your bathroom."

Rubbing his eyes, Qubine gets up, staggers a bit — ah, their shoes are on the floor by the chair, neatly lined up — and disappears into the bathroom. Surprised at finding Qubine sleeping on his sofa, David is thoroughly awake, and he spends the next few minutes trying to piece together the events from last night.

By the time Qubine comes back out, David has an answer. His phone's call history is showing that he called Torgal early in the morning. "I think Torgal happened... he must've taken us back here."

"That explains it." Finding bottled water on the desk, Qubine takes one to David. "Can I use your hairbrush?"

"Go for it."

Water tastes so good. David faintly wonders how bad a state he'd be in if not for those pills last night.

"How're you feeling?"

"I'm all right." A few strokes of the brush later, Qubine is looking perfect — well, apart from the wrinkled shirt. "My head feels a little bit weird."

"No headache?"

"No?"

"Damn you gefyrians and your magical healing powers. Look at you. How do you look like that after last night?"

"'Magical healing powers' are a trade-off for not being able to lift a grown man with just one arm, probably."

What... oh wait, yes, that did happen didn't it. David picks up his phone again to check if Rush has replied to that picture yet, and notices an icon flashing on the taskbar.

"Why is there a massive folder on my phone called 'QUBINE'S PUSSY'?"

Qubine folds the blanket he used last night and sits back down on the sofa. "You renamed it that yourself. I sent you a folder of Duke's photos and videos."

"Did I? Did you?"

"Do you have no memory of last night?"

"Definitely no memory of this..." Oh hell, how drunk must he have been? David covers his head with his blanket, horrified. "If I made any inappropriate joke I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

"Well. You talked a lot about stroking my pussy..."

"Ahhhhhhhhhh!" Is there an eject button on this bed? So that David can send himself into space and become a piece of floating debris?

"...but I started the pussy joke first so it's all right." A short laugh.

Never, ever get drunk with Qubine again, David tells himself. No damage done this time, it seems, but what if he really says the wrong thing next time? Guy at Warrior's Honor back home has always said David was a talkative drunk.

"David? Are you all right? Do you need a coffee? Headache pills?"

He joked about _stroking Qubine's pussy_. That's sexual harassment. David doesn't know if he'll ever be all right again. "I don't know. I'm still too mortified for anything..."

"Really? But I had fun. And we stayed for longer than Ghor did, which was a bonus."

"We did?"

"We waved at him as he left. I'm guessing you also don't remember that part?"

David tries to think with his still-foggy brain. He pulls his blanket down a little. Actually this isn't the first time he's blanked out after a night of alcohol, just the first time in many years. But he can still play it up a bit. "Only vaguely, and only because you've mentioned it... why do you remember and I don't?"

"Magical healing powers?" Qubine shrugs. He checks the time, then starts putting his shoes on. "It's not too late, I'm going to get some breakfast. Do you want to come?"

Nothing happened then, definitely. Nothing that offended Qubine or made him have second thoughts about being friends. And he just said he had fun. Oh, thank god.

Feeling relieved doesn't mean David feels ready to be vertical yet, though. "Bring me something. Tea... bacon and eggs... muffins..."

"I'm not going to provide room service, David."

And here, room service only brings drinks. This is Elysion Space Station, not a hotel.

Qubine is putting on his jacket now. With the waistcoat on as well, the state of his shirt underneath is not noticeable. "You can survive on tea alone. But the memorial service is in three hours and I want to eat before that."

"Hnnnrrrggh..." Damn. The service.

"Come on, you want to eat. Let's get breakfast together, maybe this time we won't get interrupted by estranged parents, relationship offers or pitchers of alcohol."

Yes, that would be nice, actually. Just a nice, simple breakfast with a good friend. His presentation is over, the Heart's fate is out of his hands now. But quiet, companionable moments can fortify him against the other daggers still dangling above his head.

David makes himself sit up, and rubs his face. "Give me a few minutes, I just need to wash my face and get changed."

"Of course."

 

Granted, most of the knots, braids, badges and whatnot are still pinned in place from the last time Qubine wore this outfit, but full traditional regalia is still quite a task to get into. He pins the velvet half-cape to the jacket before shrugging it on, checking the positioning in the mirror. No, too far out. He takes it off and repins it.

If only they made these in a child size. A smaller cape would be much easier. Then again, he would be dwarfed by the ceremonial objects he has to carry later.

Fourth try, and the cape finally sits right. He checks the time, then makes a call to David.

"David speaking."

David's voice has a distinct hollowness that tells Qubine his friend is using the speakerphone. "How are you getting on?"

"Looking for a gravity generator for my shoulder."

Yes, Qubine thought David might have trouble; this should be the first time he has to wear the captain's regalia. "I have spare safety pins."

"Yes please!"

Qubine snorts. "I'm on my way."

David's room is in another section, far enough that Qubine opts to take a personal transporter, input his destination and just let himself be taken there. And the PTs on Elysion are the latest generation, too; he's been looking for an excuse to try them.

Sometimes, when left on his own like this, he reflects on the absurdity that is his life. He is on the most famous of all space stations, dressed in regalia, riding on a hoverboard, prepared to lead in a memorial service as the captain of a major battleship.

He has never thought he'd come this far. Joining the army — even though he had to jump through many bureaucratic hoops just to do so — was a decision born of the desire to repay the people who saved him and Letitia, and the hope to save lives just like they did. With his skills in circuits and other things, he had thought he would be spending his years tinkering with machines, not that he would become a leader of any sort. Some people are natural leaders, you can spot them easily. Like David, for example. But not Qubine. Nobody thought he had the gift, least of all himself.

Though...

Perhaps David's gifts are not truly gifts, but burdens. He is capable, he is flexible, he is the solution to everything. He fulfills everyone's promises, and gets more to do as his reward.

Damn. Since when have things got this bad? Qubine knew there were pressures on the Valeria Heart trial programme, but no one informed him that central command is seriously questioning its viability even though he was the one who created the programme.

He could get mad at not being kept in the loop, but he hadn't shown enough interest himself either. Of course he wouldn't be privy to another ship's injury record, but he had never even asked. In his attempt to not appear hovering, he has ceased to care, or at least so it looks.

To think that the Valeria Heart's select team suffer injury the way David described last night. That was not too long before they both succumbed to the alcohol and had to be helped out of the bar. No, David would never have volunteered the information had he been sober, smiling as he pointed at places he had broken bones in, been shot at since he left the Umbermarici.

God, Qubine feels a bit sick again, thinking about it now. As a military man, Qubine has seen many things, lost people in battle. He is always prepared for bad news. But David is his closest friend, and he honestly doesn't know how he would be able to cope if David was killed in action.

Was the programme a mistake, then? Qubine doesn't want to think so. The mistake lies with management — the Valeria Heart has made it too easy for them. They used her and her crew for everything without considering other options and whether or not the Heart is equipped for the task. And then they have the nerve to ask if they should keep funding her. A clear case of one department not talking to another.

If the programme is to continue, many things need to change. Otherwise... it would be better if the programme was scrapped before lives were lost.

What losing the Heart would do to David, though...

_"I was so happy on the Umbermarici."_

Does that mean David isn't happy on the Heart? But he said he loved his ship. To lose her would be devastating. And last night David asked where he could go if he couldn't fly on the Heart anymore...

Oh, _shit_.

He was happy on the Umbermarici, but he can't return to it now. The post of the vice-captain has been filled. Besides, Qubine doesn't believe David really meant it when he said he wished he was still the vice-captain. And even if Qubine finds him a post in his ship — a special advisor, a combat specialist — to go back would spell failure, both for David himself and for Qubine. David would never do it.

Qubine doesn't know exactly what it was that he has done wrong or how he can make anything better, but he has a feeling that somewhere amongst all this, he has let David down. And he wouldn't even have found out had David not been deliriously drunk.

He doesn't know if it's a good thing or not that David doesn't remember most of their conversation last night. Is it something that needs to be brought into the open and tackled head on, or would that do more harm than good?

Well, first of all, the man needs some time off. He said his holiday application got rejected, but Qubine can try and bend a few arms...

"You have reached your destination."

Ah, so he has. Qubine confirms that this is indeed where he wants to be, the PT lowers itself gently onto the floor, and he steps off.

"Very dashing," is the first thing he says when David answers the door. And he is only being honest; David does look extraordinary in the traditional outfit.

But David does not seem pleased at all. He lets Qubine in and shuts the door. "I look like an idiot. And who designed this? That cape just would not stay on me."

"Stand still." Once they are further inside the room where there is more space, Qubine takes out the safety pins he has brought with him and gets to work. There is a loop on the cape which is supposed to hold it to the epaulette, but that never does the job. "How is your hangover?"

"It's fine. Thanks for making me go to breakfast. I needed—" David suddenly flinches, wincing. "My arm is fake but the shoulder is real."

It takes half a second for Qubine to realise that David's uniform is slightly different from his on the inside. "Sorry, I didn't notice you don't have the same shoulderpads." He tries again, this time pinning the cape to the fabric without pushing the pin in too deeply.

That prompts David to prod Qubine in the shoulder, feeling the padding. "This reminds me of push-up bras."

"You know much about them?"

"Only that there's integrated padding." David withdraws his finger. "I don't actually poke at people's bras."

"Well, my shoulder bra is doing a good job. I don't think this uniform was designed for someone my build." Several strategically-placed safety pins later, the cape is secured. "Done. One of humanity's greatest inventions has once again saved the day."

"Low-tech is the best tech." David checks Qubine's handiwork. "I still look ridiculous, but thank you."

"You look fine."

"No, _you_ look fine. Very fine." David gestures for Qubine to wait. Then he picks up the peaked cap that's been left on the bed, putting it on. "Look."

David still looks very handsome, Qubine thinks, but something does seem odd. "Oh. Um. You look like... what's the word..."

"A cartoon villain? A megalomaniac? Sketchier than Hermeien?"

Qubine tries to hide his smile behind a hand. There is something very amusing about David asking that with such a polite, gentle voice. "Well, if you put it that way..."

Taking the cap Qubine has left on the desk, David puts it on him, then scrutinises Qubine's whole look, and sighs. "It actually suits you. Life is so unfair."

Qubine goes to the mirror near the front door. David is just being David, putting up the whole vanity front for the purpose of entertainment. Qubine himself doesn't think he is looking particularly anything.

Well.

That's not really true. He know that people find him attractive. That isn't necessarily a good thing — in the past, it allowed his father to more easily convince those foolish followers that his son was _special_. Now, Qubine neotenises when he is at work to make sure the crew listen to his instructions rather than just stare at his face.

Being attractive has its advantages too, of course. If it would help him get what he wants, then he would not hesitate to smile in a certain way or hold someone's gaze for a moment longer; this face has caused enough problems that he is happy to exploit it to make life easier wherever possible.

He doesn't mind that David is so complimentary about his looks, since his friend is like this with everyone and he knows David places much more importance on things that are more than skin deep. But, all in all, this face is usually just an inconvenience; it's not as if there's anyone he wants to catch the attention of.

"If we're ready, then shall we go?"

Qubine looks at David, who is devilishly good-looking in the regalia, and wonders again. If there is someone in this universe who is just right for him, then surely it has to be David. Something has to be wrong with him to not be attracted to a man like that.

"Let's. We'll be early, but I do have to attend a quick rehearsal."

"Why, in case you don't know how to hold a sword and a shield?"

"Do you?"

"Well... no."

 

Though he's heard that later there will be nighttime ground combat training with the Celapaleian Army cadets to look forward to, this is the first time Rush is being made to stay up late at the camp. and it's not for training reasons.

It's not like anybody really minds; they're mostly a young bunch who likes staying up and then get into trouble for it. Some of the older ones like Baulson tend to just roll their eyes and go to bed first, and Leucetius does that too. Rush has read somewhere that young sovanis need more sleep, so that may be why. Or Leucetius just really loves sleeping.

Everyone arrives in the hall just before assembly time, standing around yawning until the majors show up, then they all fall in line and stand at attention. They are inspected and every minor untidiness in their uniform picked on, then it's time to watch the live broadcast from Elysion Space Station.

The bicentennial memorial service of the Holy War, although called a "service", is a non-religious ceremony. Many military locations across the Empire are also taking part by staging their own services at more sociable hours in their own timezones or, in the training camp's case, observing the main one on Elysion as it takes place. They're only getting a traditional live video though; there isn't enough space in the hall for a 3D broadcast.

The Umbermarici is on the screen now, performing a fly-past with some smaller fighter ships. Wow. He's probably supposed to be thinking about the war dead, but man, that just looks so amazing. Wonder if Qubine is flying the ship himself.

The screen switches to inside Elysion Space Station, where the memorial service is starting. Hey, that's Qubine right there, front and centre. Guess he isn't doing any flying then. Watching him standing there, holding the sword and shield that represent the army, a feeling forms in Rush's chest, and he can actually hear his fellow cadets drawing a breath.

Qubine looks amazing.

That uniform, with the cape and the braids and even the hat. God, Qubine is already too pretty to start with. In an outfit like that? Just... for a few moments, Rush is sure nobody in the hall is thinking about all the lives lost during and since the Holy War. Exactly what everyone's thinking though, nope, he doesn't want to know.

Qubine marches, all on his own, to the middle of an atrium, stopping a giant piece of red rock. He puts down the sword and the shield — called the Vespe and Takshend, Rush learned in class earlier today — then steps back, and salutes. After that, more marching boots can be heard.

Oh my god that's Dave!

David and a number of others, some of whom Rush also recognises to be captains, come into the atrium from one side. They are separated by race because it's not possible for them to match strides otherwise, but they look absolutely perfect. As they get near Qubine, each group turns to face the Salia and salutes, and Qubine falls back further to stand with the other mitras.

This is so wrong. But damn, David looks so hot. Rush isn't really digging how the hat looks on him, but dear god, he knows what everyone is thinking right now; it's not like most of the class don't already have a thing for David anyway. If he was to walk in here looking like that, he could pretty much bend anyone over a desk for some sexy times and be met with great enthusiasm.

You're a terrible person, Rush. Focus on the service!

Hey, maybe David would prefer to be bent over—

Stop. Stop stop stop oh my god Rush stop. Look at the faces on screen. Everyone is so solemn. And here he is, thinking about how hot David is?

Seriously though, how amazing is it that he knows these people and actually calls them friends? Even Qubine, whom Rush has only hung out with a few times on Eulam, keeps in semi-regular contact with him, takes interest in what he's doing and offers advice.

These people on screen right now might look very, very distant, and not just physically. But they're real, and just a phone call away.

With no religious stuff involved, the ceremony lasts less than an hour, but still long enough that most people were flagging by the end of it — being at attention is tiring, and this is the wee hours of the morning, after all. Finally dismissed, Rush trudges off with the others back to the dormitories, but suddenly hears someone calling his name.

"Sir?"

It's Sir Roberto, god of all things flight formation-related. The old man gives Rush something. "If you use it in class once more, be prepared to never see it again."

"Yes, sir. Thank you. And sorry again." Rush tries to not look too ecstatic, but he's had his phone confiscated for almost two days, it's so good to finally have it back. He'd thought he might have to wait until the mid-year break starts to get it back.

First thing he does is to check if he's missed any call or message. Irina said that he must keep a particular date free because she needs him for something. Hmm, okay, whatever she wants.

A reminder from the company he's travelling with about his upcoming flight to Eulam. As if he'd forget.

Then there's a photo from David of... someone's feet? What the hell?

And a long message from Qubine.

**Q:** David sorely needs some time off. I'm going to try to push his holiday application through. If it goes through, would it be all right to send him to Eulam for a few days? I know it is your break and you will want to spend time with family, but even just a day or two with a friend away from home will be good for him. Then he can hop over to Celapaleis. I have shore leave coming up, he can stay with me.

This sounds serious. What's going on? If David needs to be away from home, is it to do with something or someone on Athlum?

Rush decides to reply right away. Wonder if Qubine is free now after the service or if he has other things to do.

**R:** Yes of course that's fine I'll be happy to see him! What's happening, I'm worried.

**Q:** It's not one single issue, but too many things happening at once, and overworking.

Okay, so Qubine's not busy right now then.

**R:** Hmm ok. Like I said he'll be welcomed. Just let me know the details if you get it set up.

**Q:** Thank you. And I realise it seems like every time I contact you it's because of David, sorry about this. When my shore leave starts let's chat properly.

Aww, Qubine's so lovely. And suddenly Rush realises that Qubine is most likely still wearing that outfit and looking exceedingly pretty as they chat. Damn.

**R:** It's nothing to apologise for. :)

**Q:** Thanks.

Following the other cadets, Rush exits the building and heads for the dormitories. It's not too long a walk and not too chilly in the uniform. Still, they all walk a little faster, wanting to be in bed sooner.

Perhaps he should see how David is doing, especially after what Qubine's just said. And he wants to ask what that photo is all about anyway. So he goes back to it and sends a reply.

**R:** ????? Feet?

David's response, like Qubine's, is also pretty much instant.

**D:** Those are Qubine's feet.

**R:** Why did you send me a picture of his feet?

**D:** I picked him up with one arm. Remember that thing you put on my bucket list?

**R:** OMG and you lived to tell the tale?

**D:** We might have been quite drunk at that point.

Good grief. Rush checks the date and time of the original message. That wasn't that long ago.

**R:** Did you guys get hammered last night? At Elysion? And then went to the ceremony just now? With a hangover?

That seems kind of irresponsible, but after what Qubine said, Rush wonders maybe Qubine was just being a good friend and keeping David company. Anyway, these guys still delivered a perfect performance as far as Rush saw earlier.

**D:** It was someone's birthday... alcohol happened.  
**D:** Gefyrians don't get hangovers. I'm mostly fine. Were you watching the broadcast?

**R:** We had to. That was some top notch marching. And some very fancy uniforms.

**D:** It's a bit of a pain to put on, but once it's on it's fine.

**R:** Yeah someone here's saying that cape shouldn't work.

A new picture from David arrives. He's lifted his cape to show what's going on underneath. Rush brings his phone right up to his face, gapes and can't help but laugh — are those safety pins?

**D:** You can show them this. It's not very high-tech.

Maybe later. Rush doesn't exactly want people to know he's talking to David right now.

**R:** Shattering illusions! We all thought you were naturally that fabulous!  
**R:** Well I didn't ask everyone but you can see it on their faces. The harem's still here if you want it.

**D:** That would be unbefitting of a marquis like myself.

**R:** Or very befitting, depends what kind of a noble you are. :P

**D:** This enablement feels unsafe. Anyway I might have a date lined up.

What? This is definitely a new development!

**R:** DETAILS!

**D:** Not many available. Don't get excited, it's a temporary thing.

**R:** ??????

**D:** Look up 'Nagapurian partnering' later.

"Okay..." Rush mutters to himself, still confused as hell. David hasn't gone and rented himself a partner or two, has he? Or is "Nagapurian partnering" a website and he is trying internet dating? Rush can only hope David isn't making bad decisions because he's stressed. But Qubine's there to watch out for him, right?

**R:** Well, temporary or not, I hope it's a good thing for you. :)

**D:** Me too. :)

**R:** Only good things allowed for Dave.

**D:** I don't think that's how life works.

**R:** It is. I say so.

**D:** All right, all right.

 

"Only good things allowed for Dave", hmm?

David reads that sentence again, and feels the positive energy from Rush tugging at the corners of his lips.

Well, he can hope that Rush is right. There is only one way to find out. He's very, very rusty with these things now, but that's why he needs to practice.

David finds the number, takes a deep breath and makes the call.

"Jakob? It's David, we met last night... Yes I'm fine, haha much better thanks... So... I was wondering if you'd be free for dinner tonight?"


	28. Chapter 28

The coffee has gone cold, but there is very little left anyway, and neither of them really wants another drink.

"But I don't want to make a big deal out of it. And the captain..."

"I can absolutely promise you that he won't think you any less for it."

"How can you be so sure?"

The old man looks up at David, his yellow eyes somewhat moist. David nearly teared up too, yesterday at the ceremony, remembering the friends he has lost, but today he feels a little calmer. It's harder for Maddox. For him, the war is still too close, too fresh on his mind.

"When I lost my arm, he made sure I was able to see someone about it if I wanted to. Even when I said I'd rather be back on the ship, he offered to bring any therapist I wanted onboard," David says. He can't tell Maddox that Qubine himself has undergone therapy before, so he can only use himself as an example. Though, apart from the people who helped his physical recovery, David had not accepted other help, so his example is less persuasive than he'd like it to be.

But Maddox really needs to talk to someone. His union suffered losses in the battles of Beyond Undelwalt, and although logically he knows it was not his fault, survivor's guilt and just the pure emotional trauma of losing friends are hard to take. He says he doesn't think it's post traumatic stress but even so, an assessment and some advice from a professional can only be helpful.

"If you see someone, it doesn't go on any of Central's records unless you request for it. I wouldn't worry about Qubine but if you'd rather, you don't even have to tell him."

"I don't?"

"He'd only be informed if someone was deemed unfit to work."

"Is that right? Ah... I had no idea."

"You have three months of shore leave coming up. Why not use that time to look after yourself? And if you need more time, Qubine won't have a problem arranging things for you. If he kicks up a fuss, let me know and I'll punch his face so hard he'll need reconstructive surgery, gefyrian or not."

"Haha! As if you'd ever hurt him."

"I know I won't have to."

Maddox dips his head, staring into his coffee cup. He's clearly thinking and David doesn't want to rush him. If confidentiality is the main concern, hopefully he now knows that there is nothing to worry about.

Then, finally, after a few long minutes, he sighs.

"I guess it's my responsibility to be at my best as the vice-captain. So if seeing someone might help me, then I should do it."

David smiles. "That was going to be my last angle of approach if I couldn't persuade you."

Maddox slaps his knees, then picks up his cup and drinks what's left inside. "I'll call the number."

Thank goodness. It's not an easy decision to make, and it's odd to say this because Maddox is around thirty years his senior, but David is proud of him. To stop himself from chickening out, the man is already looking up the number, ringing it straight away to make an appointment. And once that's done, he already looks less burdened than before.

"Thank you so much for taking the time and talking sense into this old head."

"I've done nothing. You knew what you needed all along."

"Yes, a swift kick in the behind, it turns out." Maddox chuckles.

"It's called 'enabling'. There is no violence involved."

In the end, Maddox might have needed a push, but he is the only person who can do something to help himself.

"Hahaha... so, David, can I ask you something? After what happened to your arm, what made you decide you didn't need help?"

That's a reasonable question, just one David hasn't considered before. Why, indeed...

It's not really the kind of story he wants to bore anyone with. He came to see how Maddox is getting on, not to talk about himself.

"It's not like I decided that I didn't need help. I just didn't feel that I needed it... that doesn't make any sense, does it." He tips his head to one side. Hmm, how to phrase this? "I mean, I didn't say no to help. I just hadn't said yes."

The explanation makes Maddox frown a little, probably having noticed that his question hasn't really been answered, and maybe that there isn't an easy answer. But instead of digging deeper, he decides to let it go.

"I see. You kept your options open."

That's one way to put it. "I suppose I did."

"Thanks for talking to me, David. I really, really needed this."

"Like I said before, I've done nothing."

 

There is not much for David to do for the remainder of the Congress, but various members of his crew have seminars to go to and presentations they wish to see. Perhaps David should look at the timetable and see if there is anything he should try to attend, too, but he just doesn't want to. He's given enough to this damn job lately, he doesn't want to take on anything that's optional.

This is unprecedented. He is truly feeling bitter.

"Only good things allowed for Dave," Rush said last time. David will try to have some good things before being stuck with his father on the Heart going back to Athlum. And as it turns out, his new partner from Nagapur, Jakob, is a rather good thing.

It's not love, of course — David hardly knows him, and love isn't the point. And what the point is depends purely on the person. Some use the chance to see if they are a good match. Some learn about how to be a good date. Some, like David, simply enjoy the process and the fact that it bears no consequence.

For these few days, Jakob is David's partner, and David can fuss over him, play with his hair, tell terrible jokes that'd make him roll his eyes while resting his head on David's shoulder. David has missed this, being allowed to focus his attention on someone and really care about them, make them smile, without worrying about how it might come across. Of course he's also missed having someone doing the same for him, but that doesn't play nearly as large a part. It's about being able to give, to share, and being unapologetic about it.

He just wants to be allowed to be close to people again. Like at that pub on Ghor, when the Umbermarici's crew welcomed him as one of their own. Some of those people he'd grown up with, some have watched him grow up. He might be a captain now, but to them he's just David, and that felt wonderful.

He has simply spent so long being the captain, being the best friend who'd once made a romantic approach, being the one whose feelings aren't really reciprocated. But his work schedule no longer allows him any time for the human connections he craves.

"Is the steak no good?"

David snaps out of his thoughts and looks up from his dinner. "Oh, no, it's lovely." He cuts a piece, puts it on the end of his fork and holds it out for Jakob to try.

They really shouldn't be doing this at Congress, but the day's meetings are over, at least. And it's the politicians — of which there are plenty here — whose every move is scrutinised, no one cares about someone from the intergalactic army and a medical scientist being on a date.

Incidentally, although Jakob's work has nothing to do with prosthesis or limb regeneration, he worships the team that pioneers the latest development, so when David showed him his arm earlier he literally yelped in glee. No one has ever shown such a positive reaction to the arm, and Jakob's joy was infectious.

Jakob peers at David, suspicious of the smile that's surfaced. He swallows the food in his mouth before speaking. "What is it now?"

"Just thinking about what a huge nerd you are."

Jakob pulls back and puts down his cutlery, embarrassed. "I said I was sorry!"

"And I said you didn't have to apologise. It made you happy, I honestly think that's wonderful." Putting down his knife and fork too, David reaches across with his false hand to squeeze Jakob's. "Your... 'fangasm' was incredibly cute."

Jakob narrows his eyes. "You're not making this better."

"Actually, I wonder if you'd be delighted or appalled by my party arm."

"Party arm?"

David explains the idea: one of his first prosthesis is an older model which he no longer uses. Instead of sending it back for recycling, it is passed around between the crew. Each person gets to keep it for a while, and they must make modifications to it. It's basically now a toy that gets them all talking and helps keep their electrical, mechanical and other skills up. This has been going on for over a year already.

"What kind of modifications?" Jakob looks amused yet worried at the same time.

"There have been lights, sound effects... and Pagus made a glove for it. He's my medic," says David. The glove is actually hand-knitted, and very well made too, but absolutely useless since that arm does not need to be kept warm. But that only made what Pagus did even more marvellous. "They can do whatever they want to the arm as long as I can control it and won't accidentally kill someone. Actually, I think I have a video of what happened last time..."

The video was only taken in the cafeteria, so David can show it to the public. He explains to Jakob who the people are, what is going on, and Jakob laughs when in the video David points at an object and a voice — Blocter's voice, he recorded it himself — announces the distance of that object from David's fingertip. It's something most mobile phones can do, but built into the prosthetic.

"So nice."

"I know. It's all about the amusement value."

"I wasn't being sarcastic." Jacob nods at the video, which has ended after David measured the length of Blocter's tail with his finger. "The people you work with seem really nice. And they seem to adore you... but I suppose that's not difficult at all."

"Flatterer." David smiles, wry. "But they are very good to me, you're right. They're like my other family."

"I'm so glad. You're away from home a lot, I guess, being an envoy? But you have very good company at least."

"I know. I'm very lucky to have them."

"I'm sure they think they're very lucky to have you."

Maybe. David wonders about that. The crew is tolerant as he gets to grips with the ship's unusual and ever-changing remit, that's for certain. However he hasn't been able to fight for their corner, get them better pay or holiday allowance, anything of that sort. And now he doesn't even know if they can fly together as a team for much longer.

"Hey. Are you drifting off again?"

"Hmm? Sorry, just having thoughts."

Jakob sighs, but fondly, as if he's used to this already. "How about we go to the viewing gallery after this, and you can have your thoughts there and fall asleep on me if you want?"

"That would be nice."

 

No word from human resources yet. Qubine doesn't really have power over them and it would be strange for him to yell at them on David's behalf, but he knows what the rights are for officers. After spending a few minutes to convince himself that it is his duty to speak up for both David and the sake of general morale, he has gently reminded HR to not break the law by making David work continuously for over a certain period of time. He also reminded them that shore leave shorter than a week is not legally considered holiday leave.

To be honest, David hasn't asked for help and Qubine doesn't really want to meddle too much, but he knows David wouldn't want to get ugly with HR or anyone from central command when the Valeria Heart trial programme is being reviewed, so someone needs to fight for him.

Once David gets the holiday, Qubine will try to convince him to go to Celapaleis. Would it be weird to ask David to stay at his house? Letitia probably won't mind. The spare room isn't ready for guests, but it shouldn't take long to sort it out. But perhaps David would prefer staying at a hotel anyway?

"You've just finished for the day?"

Qubine looks up. David has just arrived, and he looks more rested than a few days ago.

"I had a meeting just now. My room's far away and I can't be bothered to go back and get changed," Qubine explains, picking up his glass of orange juice — he always prefers sweet things when he's in the smaller body. Funny how tastebuds work.

A waiter has come over to take David's order. He asks for a green tea, which makes Qubine raise an eyebrow.

"I didn't know you like green tea."

David tips his head to one side. "I have enough reasons to lose sleep, I don't need to add caffeine to the list."

So David is looking after himself. Good.

"How many more meetings do you have?"

"This was the last one. Celapaleian Security Council chaired it, I didn't even have to speak."

"That's good," says David, sitting back. "Something strange happened today."

"Yes?"

"HR did a u-turn and approved my holiday application."

"They did?" So HR has already reacted. It's a shame they had to be threatened first, but it's still a result. "For how long?"

"Until the Heart returns from the next flight, so around six weeks." David exhales deeply. "I know I applied for it, but this isn't a good time to go away. The trial programme is being reviewed, and one of my crew is retiring and I haven't found someone to take his place yet."

This reminds Qubine that David has very little memory of what was said when they got drunk together a few nights ago; he's already heard about this before.

"Is the next flight a complicated one?"

"No. It's just high security transport, then a garrison visit."

"I would take the holiday if I were you. If you keep working it'll affect your performance. And who knows how long it'll be before they let you take time off again?"

David shakes his head, resigned. "That's true..."

"I visited you last year, you should visit me this time. You can stay at mine if you like."

Perhaps that does sound weird, after all, seeing the way David is staring like Qubine just said something, well, weird.

"Yours?"

"Come to Celapaleis. I'll be on shore leave, and I have a spare room. You're welcome to it as long as you are okay with occasionally finding cats on the bed."

"How many cats do you have at home?"

"As many as there are in the Amber; my sister and I live above it. We basically own the building."

"I see." David looks amused. "Now I know where you live. Hmm. I'll think about it."

"You can stay at a hotel if you prefer, I won't be offended. And you can take the chance to go over to Eulam too and visit Rush?"

David is giving him a funny look again. After a pause, he asks, "is this... an intervention?"

Oops, perhaps it's too obvious. Qubine quickly puts on his most innocent, curious expression, which in theory should work well with the ten-year-old face, although those who see him like this are all colleagues who know better so in reality it has no effect other than being amusing. "A what?"

"Never mind." A snort and a slow shake of the head. "Intervention or not, it's not a bad idea, but I'll let you know later; Gideon might try to talk to my family, and if that's the case I need to be there to mediate things. But if he promises me he won't do that, and my crew is fine with me taking a break... then I'd love to visit you," David sighs, "and get away for a while. But maybe I'll use a hotel."

Qubine makes a mental note to give Torgal a call soon. The Heart's crew can help persuade David. "Well, let me know when you know," he says, quieting down for a moment when someone brings David his tea. After the waiter is gone, he launches into the next topic. "So how are things with your new partner?"

"Good. I'm having fun despite the lack of things to do around here. But yesterday he had the whole day free so we took the shuttle to Ghor for some entertainment."

"I'm glad." Qubine means it. It has been mildly annoying that much of David's time has been taken up by the Nagapurian man who appeared out of nowhere, but that's the way things are when people get into relationships. "To be honest I wondered if it would all go wrong."

David shakes his head. "It's hard for it to go too wrong. It only lasts a few days, if someone can't even be nice for just a few days, then... I suppose it can happen, but those people are unlikely to go for this kind of partnering to begin with."

"Interesting. But doesn't it just feel strange? To immediately start a relationship with a stranger, and..."

"And pretend that I really like him? It did take me a whole day to get used to it. It's like shifting a gear in your head, once you've done it, it's fine."

"I'm not going to claim to have understood that."

David smirks. "The best way to understand something is to give it a try."

"I don't think so. Not to say you're not right, but no."

"It doesn't have to be with a stranger."

"Still not interested."

"It's just having someone being very nice to you. There is no sex involved."

"A lot of people are nice to me already. Sex is not a problem... I think." It's not as if Qubine is saving himself. He just hasn't met someone he'd like to sleep with. "I just don't think this style of dating is for me."

Actually he hadn't thought it would be something David liked, either, but it turns out he was wrong.

"Fair enough."

"So what happens after Congress?"

"As in me and Jakob? Nothing. Hopefully we can stay in contact; I think we can definitely be friends."

"You're not going to miss him?"

"Maybe I will, a little."

David sounds dismissive. Maybe that's the right attitude to have with this kind of thing. It's hard to maintain neutral and not judge, but Qubine is going to try. David is just following the rules of the arrangement, and he is looking more like the man Qubine knows, confident and poised. That Jakob must be doing something right. Doing better than Qubine had, at least.

But enough on the boyfriend.

"Maddox told me he's talked with you."

David sips his tea. "He just needs some time to sort out a few things."

The reply is vague, but if Maddox doesn't want Qubine to know the specifics, Qubine is fine with that. He's just grateful that Maddox feels that he can confide in David, and that David is willing to listen.

"Thank you for doing this."

"He is my friend too," says David. "Are you excited to finally have a vice-captain again?"

"I wouldn't say 'excited', more 'relieved'."

"I don't know about you, I find it slightly awkward to have someone much older directly below me on the command chain. Torgal doesn't seem to have a problem, but I was raised being told I must always respect my elders, so telling him—"

Qubine cuts in. "You, respecting your elders? Ha! You called me 'fun-sized'!"

"You were this size when I said that." David gestures at all of the four-foot-something that Qubine is right now.

"As if you weren't aware that I was senior to you in both age and rank."

"Details." A dismissive flick of the wrist. "Back to what I was saying, telling Torgal to do things always feels wrong."

Qubine narrows his eyes for a moment before letting things drop. It's not like he doesn't know that David, then a teenager, wasn't being rude as much as being provocative and friendly in an obscure way.

"I'm used to giving orders to anyone regardless of their age and size. Maybe being this size even helps," says Qubine. "If anything, I'm more concerned about becoming part of the 'mitra commander with non-mitra second' stereotype."

"There is a lot of that..."

"I suppose it's still better than having two mitras in command."

"'In command'?"

"Hmm?"

"Back on the Umbermarici I wasn't 'in command'." David presses a finger to his lips and looks to one side. "I wouldn't say 'dogsbody'... I was more a... majordomo. Or butler, if you like."

What a load of nonsense. "A butler. Who fights."

"With my tailcoat swishing and all. I acted on your behalf managing 'home' matters while you dealt with 'foreign' affairs. And I'm not being bitter, but that was how it worked." David smiles. "You don't _need_ a vice-captain during peace time. you manage the ship perfectly well on your own. You appointed me because the ship was used to have a vice-captain, and situations were becoming unstable and you knew we were heading towards war. Now you've picked Maddox because you want to give him a career opportunity, not because you need his help. You want it — because sometimes Qubine you're so lazy — but you don't need it."

Well.

There is nothing Qubine can say to that. Especially the lazy part. Once he learned how to delegate well, he found that he rather enjoyed it.

"You were in command. In full command, even, when I took that leave of absence. As I recall, the feedback on your performance was positive all round."

"What I recall is you telling me not to fuck up, and at that point I only had three months' experience as vice-captain. If the ship didn't mostly run herself anyway I don't know what would have happened."

Surely David doesn't think so little of himself. He's just being humble. "I am sorry to have suddenly dropped that on you. It was a lot to carry on inexperienced shoulders."

"I wasn't blaming you." David's smile fades. "You did what you needed to."

Qubine drinks his orange juice and says nothing.

Once he is back on Celapaleis he will to go the laboratory for them to take his DNA sample, whether it is to replace a lost sample or to be matched against evidence the Undelwaltian police have unearthed. But regardless of the result, Qubine hopes he will have no further involvement in it. He especially does not want to hand the Umbermarici to another new vice-captain and then go to give evidence in another trial.

He hears a muffled buzzing sound. David gets out his phone — he has it on silent — and answers the call.

"Hello? ...You're finished already? That's faster than I thought. How did it go? ...I'm with Qubine at one of the coffee shops at Hendler Ring. ...We're in the middle of something at the moment, how about I—"

It must be Jakob on the other side. "David. Go, don't mind me."

"Wait." David tells his partner, lowers his phone and frowns.

"You're only with him for another day. Make the most of it," Qubine tells him, but he still looks unsure, so Qubine dips his gaze to the phone. "He's waiting."

After a moment of consideration, David continues his call. "How about you come and get me? This place is called Syvonne's. ...Mmmhmm. ...Great. See you soon." He hangs up. "It'll take him a while to get here."

"You could have gone to meet him."

"Or I can give him time to put his things down, and stay here a bit longer; I haven't even finished my tea yet." David refills his cup from the teapot. "Are you okay?"

This man. Qubine would shake his head at such tactics, but he suspects David has learned it from him.

"Anxious." If David's noticed it enough to ask, then there is no point in denying. "Cannot wait to go home."

"I should give you back your cat visistone."

"Did it help you at all?"

"A little. But you need it more than I do."

"Well, you have Jakob now."

David looks just a tiny bit uncomfortable. "He is better than 3D projections, yes."

And they won't last long enough for Jakob to want to cheat. Qubine recalls their conversation at the bar a few nights ago, David confessing that he doesn't feel ready for a new relationship because it gives someone else too much "power" over him.

The sentiment is painful, but the fact that David devotes himself heavily to love doesn't surprise Qubine at all. He is the sort of man who, once he commits himself to something, really dedicates to it.

"Qubine."

"Yes. Sorry, I'm still here."

David sits forward and lowers his voice. "Is there anything at all that I can do for you?"

Although Qubine already knows the answer, he tries to consider the offer anyway. No, there really isn't. And that's frustrating — for David, not for Qubine himself.

"Take that holiday, and spend some of it with me on Celapaleis." Is this manipulative? Absolutely. And Qubine doesn't care. "Sort out family matters first if you need to, of course. I suspect I'll have to wait some time before hearing anything from Undelwalt again anyway."

After a short pause, David nods, holding Qubine's gaze with his grey eyes, the corner of his lips twitching once as if there are words unsaid.

Jakob arrives around half an hour later, when the two friends are talking about the price of real estate on Athlum and where David might consider moving house to. Jakob does what everyone does, his jaw dropping open at the sight of Qubine as a ten-year-old, but he recovers quickly and they exchange greetings. After checking that Jakob doesn't want to order a drink, David leaves for the bathroom.

Jakob perches himself on the armrest of David's seat. He is a brunette, has fair skin, and looks a bit underweight the way many scientists do.

"Sorry to interrupt... my meeting finished early," he says with a distinct, melodic southern Nagapurian accent and a voice that's quite pleasing to the ear.

"Don't worry about it; we talk often enough." Although Qubine only gets to see David maybe twice a year, that is an unnecessary detail. He has the feeling that David needs an ignorant partner more than he needs his friends at the moment. "How was Congress for you?"

"It's been very exciting. I've met a lot of people I only knew before by reputation, got to attend seminars hosted by people I admire, and learned a lot of things. It's overwhelming, to be honest."

It looks like the annual event can be a very different experience for someone in a different profession. "Oh, this is your first time?" Qubine asks, and receives a nod. He smirks. "Yet you went and got yourself a partner. That's a bit bold."

"I— well I— he's..." Jakob stutters, then laughs at himself, embarrassed. "He's gorgeous, I couldn't take my eyes off him. Then my friend said he knew who you two were, that you were in the army, so I thought I might never see him again if I didn't do something. He also said David was Nagapurian, the bastard. I was just going to try, you know, I never thought he'd actually say yes."

The confession makes Qubine chuckle. All right, just moments ago he thought Jakob seems quite average, but he is revising the impression upwards. "Well, if you don't ask, you don't get. Any plans on extending this arrangement?"

"The physical distance makes it impossible." Jakob shakes his head. "I don't get it though: why is he single? Someone like him should have people fighting each other trying to get his attention."

That's a fair question, really. Jakob is quite right that David is a very desirable man. But Qubine wonders what kind of an answer he is expecting. To be told that there is something very wrong about David that he would learn about if they were together for longer?

"I can't say for certain, but he is flying all the time. I would guess the distance problem is not unique to you." Qubine says. "He has a demanding job."

After David returns, the pair of not-quite-lovebirds take their leave, but not before Jakob takes out something from the inside chest pocket of his coat.

"Got this for you."

It's a flower. David gapes at it a bit, his cheeks flushing. "Thank you... I didn't realise there is a florist here?"

"There isn't. I plucked it from a flowerbed."

David narrows his eyes and purses his lips in the most I-shouldn't-be-impressed-but-I-am way Qubine has ever seen. Then the two finally take off after another quick apology to Qubine, who shoos them away.

Well.

That was... odd to witness, all the more so knowing it was supposed to be just play-pretend. And Qubine has never met David's previous partners or seen how he reacts to being flirted with or charmed.

He feels strangely uncomfortable.

But never mind that.

Congress is almost over. The long shore leave is coming up. He has booked a session with the therapist — it'll be the first one in many years. There are also friends he has promised to see. And family situation permitting, David will be visiting Celapaleis. Qubine doesn't believe in planning holidays, but he will try to think of a few things to do. Most importantly he needs to make sure David recharges his batteries.

But before all that, Qubine has calls to make and people to meet here on Elysion.

He will save the Valeria Heart.


	29. Chapter 29

"This was a terrible idea," says Jakob with a laugh, blushing from his face all the way down to his chest. "From now on I'm going to compare everyone with you."

David snorts, long and ungracefully, a hand raking his fringe away from his face. "This was a great idea." He shifts his gaze from the ceiling to his companion. "It was exactly what I needed."

"What you really need is a lot of sleep, and maybe a massage."

"That also," David agrees. "But I really enjoyed it. Thank you."

Jakob smiles, says nothing, and kisses him.

Things aren't supposed to end up like this, and David feels a twinge of regret that his first attempt at Nagapurian partnering hasn't fully followed the rules, but the rules are more like just guidelines anyway. They're adults who can make their own decisions, and if they decided they wanted to have sex, then they damn well could.

It's been a long time since David last slept with someone he could have a laugh with. Very occasionally he would hook up with someone from a bar or a club, but one-night-stands really are not his thing. He much prefers sharing a — slightly cramped, since Jakob only got a large single rather than a double — bed with people whose company he already likes.

David has to fly quite soon, so he reluctantly gets up and starts getting dressed; the shower can wait until he's back on the Heart.

"Damn, you've really spoiled me. I'm going to have such high standards for men from now on."

Looking up from picking his clothes up from the floor, David sees Jakob studying him. "You're never going to stop flattering me, are you?"

"I'm serious." Jakob sits up. "You're so nice, you're fun to be around, you're so hot you should have your own calendar, I love your voice... what?"

They've already made it absolutely clear that this relationship is ending today. So what is Jakob trying to do? "What's all that for?"

"What's what for?" Shuffling to the edge of the bed, Jakob looks up at David, who is still holding his underwear. "It's just the truth. You must hear that all the time anyway."

"Um... no." Rush says things like that, and very occasionally Qubine does too, but they don't mean it the way Jakob does.

After a long pause, Jakob realises that David is not joking. "What is wrong with people?"

"Nothing. You Nagapurians just have a thing for my colourings."

"Haha... we do love darker skintones." A hand rests on David's hip. It looks pasty against David's skin. "But I mean it, you're absolutely gorgeous, and not just because you've got a very fine derriere."

"That's the most Nagapurian thing I've heard you say this week." All right, if he says so. "Thank you... this is embarrassing."

"You always look so confident, I thought I'd be the shy one."

David has to glare at Jakob to make him stop laughing.

When he is ready to leave, Jakob goes to the door with him, wearing a bathrobe.

"Thank you so much for this week, David."

The fact that it's ended does make David feel a bit melancholy, but the experience has been wonderful and no, in the long term, things wouldn't have worked out between them.

"Thank you." He gives Jakob a firm hug. "So what are the guidelines? Can we stay in contact as friends do?"

"I would be upset if we didn't."

"Good. Thanks again... it's too long to explain but you've done me a lot of good. Whoever manages to steal your heart will be very lucky man."

"Who is the flatterer now?"

"I'm just being honest." David lets go. "Okay, I have a ship to fly."

"Visit me next time you're in Sudenalm?"

"I will."

 

**R:** GOING HOME IN 2 DAYS. How about you, are you still on Elysion?

**D:** I'm on my way home.

**R:** Did everything go okay?

That depends on what "everything" and "okay" are, but David doesn't want to talk about his father, and those in training are not privy to the Valeria Heart's real function.

**D:** I've done all I could.

He looks at his own answer. It seems so standard and dismissive. He should add to it.

**D:** I can't talk about it to people below G7. But management is hard. I miss being a simple foot soldier.

**R:** Aw, but you love the Heart, right? You gain some, you lose some.

**D:** Very true.

**R:** And don't forget: Torgal juggling Pagus.

**D:** I don't know who to feel more sorry for...   
**D:** What are your plans for your break?

**R:** Nothing except eating loads of mum's cooking.

**D:** You'll get fat.

**R:** It'll be worth it! Hey Qubine told me you'll be visiting him? I'll send you guys some tasty treats.

It shouldn't surprise David by now to hear that Rush and Qubine talk to each other, but somehow it still does. In a good way, though.

**D:** You don't need to.

**R:** You only say that because you've not tried my tasty treats before.

**D:** That sounds so euphemistic...

**R:**   
**R:** Hey how did your Nagapurian thing go?

David thinks about the past week, the revelations that he really just misses being with people and that he longs to be liked not only for being a dependable friend and competent officer. How he has changed; he must be getting old. And lonely.

**D:** I had a great time, but it won't work in the long run.

**R:** Oh okay...

**D:** This is unrelated, but I've been wondering if you know which ship(s) you will be applying to.

**R:** Which do you think? Kinda obvious isn't it?

**D:** The Umbermarici? That's what I've been telling Qubine.

**R:** He could've just asked me when we were talking about specialisations.

**D:** Have you picked them?

**R:** Piloting major, languages and nutrition minors.

Good choices, but two minors?

**R:** Seems crazy but I've looked at the nutrition stuff, I already know half of it. ;) It's not like I'm dual-wielding. Not actually crazy like you.

**D:** I have many siblings. If I couldn't talk my way out of something (diplomacy), I fought my way out of it (combat). So it wasn't that crazy.

**R:** Whoa~

**D:** Not really. I was just young and stupid. Don't do two majors.   
**D:** Keep working hard and I'm sure they'll let you work on your first choice ship.

**R:** Yeah I'm going to find myself a friendly rival like you suggested.   
**R:** If I don't find one then you're going to be my invisible rival.

**D:**

**R:** Whatever motivates me, okay? Deal with it. :P

**D:** If you want to make your own life difficult, that's your choice.   
**D:** It's the end of my break, I need to go.

**R:** Say hi to everyone for me?

**D:** I will.

David changes into his uniform, checks himself in the mirror, takes a deep breath and steps out of his cabin.

People are talking, of course — some of the crew have met Gideon by now, and despite David having instructed Torgal to tell the crew to remain professional, that doesn't stop them from talking amongst themselves.

As for Gideon himself, David has heard nothing from him so far. No special requests, no questions. Presumably he's just as mortified as David is about the situation. If he has said anything that required David's attention, Torgal has been fielding for him.

In fact, Torgal has been doing a lot on David's behalf this past week. During Congress David has only vaguely kept an eye on his inbox after Torgal's offer to look after things for him. And although nothing major has come up anyway, just having someone tend to that source of general annoyance has been very good for David's stress levels. The single piece of real work David has done, apart from his presentation, was to look through all the applicants who wish to join the Valeria Heart.

It feels wrong to be recruiting when the ship's future is so unclear, but Loki's position needs to be filled. It's not easy to put into words what kind of person they need; many people have the right skills, but will any of them fit well into the team?

Rush would actually be a good fit, but he won't graduate for a while yet and he wants to be on the Umbermarici anyway.

David has been hoping that Rush would surprise him by asking about working on the Valeria Heart.

Yesterday he had a meeting with Torgal and Loki to decide if they wanted to take on any of the applicants, and they eventually picked someone who cannot join for a few weeks yet because he's in the middle of winding down an operation.

It really isn't right to take time off at the moment, but Torgal seems adamant that David should get off the Heart for a while. If David didn't know better, he'd have thought Torgal was trying to oust him from captainship.

"Captain."

"Status?" Arriving at the bridge, David doesn't sit down yet, choosing to go to one of the side monitors.

"All conditions normal."

"Thank you."

They've passed the Blackdale Asteroid Belt, so it won't be long before they get home. The window to start a conversation with Gideon is closing.

David was going to wait until they landed, and then just have a quick word with his father to warn him not to approach his family. But that isn't what David really wants. Since seeing Gideon again on Ghor, David has had a lot of time to think things over. He doesn't know what the _right_ thing to do is, but he does know what he _wants_ to do.

Since they are simply flying home and therefore there isn't much to do, nobody makes any remark when he leaves the bridge.

Just a few minutes later, he finds himself inside one of the guest suites, the same one Rush used before, actually, now occupied by Gideon.

Gideon is clean-shaven today, and his hair ungelled, making him look exactly like the man David remembers from his childhood, as if no time has passed. He has accepted David's request for a chat almost as soon as David sent it. David had thought there would at least be a bit of hesitation at first.

And when the door opened and they saw each other again, he realised having his estranged father on his ship isn't a disaster. A disaster would be if they never met again after David having practically ran away while they were on Ghor. Because he has already forgiven Gideon and there is no need for them to be estranged anymore.

"So I heard you'll be living in Virtus Parish?"

"Do you still take sugar?" Gideon asks, and David shakes his head. The little bag of sugar goes back into the jar. "I should be — I've checked about five times what's been arranged for me... you must know how you can't trust admin."

As a response, David lets out a short, pained laugh.

"I'm renting a one-bedroom flat for the time being. It's a short let, so I'll see how I get on. If I like it there I'll stay longer."

"You're living by yourself?" David asks, and receives a confused look. "I thought, perhaps... it's been a long time."

That sounds rather moronic once it's said out loud, actually, enough that it takes Gideon a moment to decipher the meaning.

"I'm not saying I haven't had a few flings over the years, but I never had the time or the heart for a new relationship."

"So are you going to get in touch with anyone?"

Carrying mugs of tea, Gideon pauses. Then he puts them down on the table, sits down, and doesn't answer the question.

"Gideon."

"I've already accepted that I'm not a husband or a father anymore."

"You're still my father."

Another pause, and Gideon covers his face.

"My god. David. It's not cool to make your own dad cry."

"Haha."

"You have no idea how much I..." Gideon's voice drifts off, and this time David just lets him take a minute to gather himself.

Some people say it takes a lot to forgive someone. David thinks forgiveness is much easier than being confused, bitter and angry for the rest of his life, "hey dad" far truer to his heart than "I don't want to see you ever again."

A few minutes later, Gideon draws a long, shaky breath, and lowers his hands. "If I... try to see them... how would you rate my chances?" he asks, grasping at his tea mug.

"I honestly can't say." Although Gideon can't detail what he has done over the years, the army will verify that he has been working for them. But whether or not that is enough for his family, David cannot tell. "But promise me, if you do try to talk to them, don't do it without me there."

"In that case I... would need to know how to contact you."

"Give me your phone."

Their contact details exchanged, Gideon takes his phone back with a trembling hand. David tries to not make it too obvious how much this means to him as well.

"They are still in Castle?"

"Hmm. But don't try to contact them on your own," David repeats the request and swallows a sigh. "You'll need a mediator; they didn't take your leaving well. Frederick might kill you on sight. And I don't know how Arianne might react..."

"I actually saw some of her works in the galleries. The paintings from around that time..."

"They're grim, aren't they? Those aren't even the darkest ones."

"But... the family coped okay?"

David decides his father doesn't need to know about some things of the past. "Everyone's still together. I mean, all of us kids moved out... but I moved back recently, actually. I sold my place and haven't had time to go house-hunting."

"You sold your place? Are you having money troubles?"

"I just didn't like it anymore. Relationship things. Speaking of finance, are you okay with money?"

"I'm fine. I might find something to do though, just so that I don't go idle. Servbot repairs, perhaps."

"I thought the servbot job was just a guise."

"It was an actual job! I might not be up to date with the latest ones, but I can fix old ones."

"I'm glad to hear that, but if you do need money, I'm always flying and in no hurry to buy a house."

"Thanks, David. I won't need your help but I'll remember, just in case." Gideon tips his head to one side, and David suddenly realises that's where his own habit of doing that came from. God, this is going to make him so self-conscious from now on. "So from what you've said a moment ago, I guess you aren't with anyone right now."

"No."

"Still only like guys?"

"Yes... hold on, back when—"

Gideon knows what David is going to say. "You were little, but I could still see it. And that's your problem — you've halved your chances even before you started."

"I was born this way, so technically you're the one to blame; you've halved my chances."

"Touché." Gideon leans back into his chair. "And here I was hoping that you were dating Captain Qubine."

David suppresses the urge but groan, but can't quite stop himself from rolling his eyes. "Why?"

"He's very pretty, I'm guessing he's quite rich, and—"

"You've only been back in my life for five minutes, Gideon. How about trying to act like a sensible parent or at least pretend you aren't that shallow?"

"He obviously cares about you a lot, and I've heard people say that the captain of the Umbermarici is a very good man."

"That's all true. I used to be his vice-captain and we made a good team. But it doesn't mean we want to date each other."

"Doesn't it? Oh wait," Gideon pauses briefly, "he's unavailable? Or he's already turned you down?"

" _Gideon_."

"You gotta keep asking. Do you know how many times I had to ask before Ian'd go out with me? F—"

"Five times. I know. Your relentlessness is infamous." Now that this is happening to him, David can vaguely recall witnessing his siblings receiving similar talks before. And since Gideon is relentless, only a very good reason will make him stop. "It's a nonstarter: he's much too skinny for me and I'm far too xiphosian for him."

Gideon doesn't look disappointed; he is only making suggestions in order to find out more. David knows, despite not having his father in his life for so many years, what he will be asked next: is there someone he's interested in? Best curb that question before it starts.

"I'm not discussing my love life with you," David declares. "Also, there are 13 male mitras working on this ship and I'm friendly with them all. If you start thinking I'm interested in someone just because I'm friends with them then I'll be in a lot of trouble."

"All right. I was just curious. I want to know more about you." Gideon just smiles, not at all annoyed by David's words. In fact he looks like he's enjoying himself, or simply too happy to be bothered by anything. David hopes the next thing he's going to say won't change that.

"I guess you want to know what'd happened while you were away."

"Of course I do."

"Put that tea down."

Gideon arches his eyebrows, but he does put down his mug, and David moves both their drinks away. Those are anti-spill mugs, but he really has no idea how his father is going to react to what he's about to be shown. Hopefully better than Rush did.

He unzips his right sleeve.

 

"There's more in the kitchen."

David shakes his head and stands. "I'm done."

"Ice-cream?"

"No thank you. I'm going to bed," he tells his parents, says goodnight and leaves the table.

His old room having been repurposed as Arianne's studio, David is using a guest room instead. It's small compared with what he had in his old flat and most of his things are still in boxes, but he doesn't mind. He likes being here, in a way. Dinner with family is better than eating alone.

It's his first day back on Athlum since Congress. He's had the injection for his arm this afternoon, so nobody questions it when he says he wants to rest. And that's a good thing, because it's not only his arm that's feeling raw.

Raw, but not necessarily in a bad way. It's just been an intense couple of weeks. But today he's been told that the Valeria Heart trial programme will continue, which means he'll be able to enjoy his holiday without that particular weight on his mind. He has noted, though, that Qubine was copied into the announcement, and wonders if the man has done something to rescue the programme from his end. It doesn't really matter, David will find out later. For now, his crew gets to stay together and that is what matters.

A few hours ago he has also heard from Gideon, who finally replied to David's earlier message to say that he has picked up the keys to his new place, and everything looks to be in good order. David hopes he'll be all right — coping with day-to-day tasks is one thing, adjusting to civilian life is another. David knows, very acutely, what it is like to be without friends.

Talking to his father about the loss of his arm, so soon after his chat with Maddox about the same thing, was emotionally exhausting. In his head he can hear the brass music that was played during the memorial service. Since listening to Maddox, he has been wondering if he has really dealt with his own issues properly or simply covered it all up with his relationship issues instead. Being cheated on by his partners, being rejected by Qubine, being made to leave everyone he knows to start a brand new ship. To talk about it now is exhausting not because he grieves for his arm, but because he doesn't care about it very much. And somewhere in the back of his mind he is vaguely aware that this is not normal.

And then there is Jakob. Not specifically Jakob himself, but what that temporary relationship has made David realise. He craves contact, craves being allowed to relate to people. He craves being spoiled and loved not because he deserves it for being a good person, but because, well, he is loved.

He would try asking Rush out if he wasn't so sure that Rush doesn't want any romance from him.

Although not everything is negative, all of it together is a lot to think about at once. He feels raw and drained, and so glad he is on holiday now.

Speaking of which, he still needs to arranged things with Qubine. Now that Gideon has promised to stay away from the family for the time being — he actually wants to have time to get used to being a normal man before worrying about anything else anyway — David can accept Qubine's intervention and fly over to visit him.

Qubine would have got home around two days ago. David checks the local time in Lamberro before making the phone call.

"Hello?"

"Hello."

"Good timing. I was just about to call you," says Qubine.

"Oh? What is it?"

"How was..." Qubine hesitates for just a moment. "I won't cover up my intention with small talk. I'd like to ask for a very big favour."

The serious tone makes David sit up. "What do you need?"

"I'd like to borrow your ship."

Has David heard that right? Qubine needs a ship? "You mean the Kellendros?"

"Yes. I know it's a lot to ask."

A spaceship isn't a pen, a jacket or a car, it's not something that one would just lend to another person. That is indeed a lot to ask and David feels he should enquire the reason behind it, not because he's unwilling to let Qubine use the ship, but that there must be an unusual reason behind such an unusual request.

"Why do you need it? Where are you going?"

A deep breath from the other side.

"I need to make an urgent trip to Undelwalt."


	30. Chapter 30

Undelwalt.

David waits, but Qubine offers no further information. Instead, he explains why he wishes to borrow the Kellendros in particular — because of the speed. He has checked commercial flights as well as the ships that are available for hire. While they would get him to Undelwalt, none has the speed of the Kellendros. If Qubine is able to take that ship and set off within the next few days, in theory he can reach the Siebenbur entrance before it closes up for two months, and use it to warp to the exit point near Undelwalt, making the whole journey only two weeks long.

So he's mapped the route and done the calculations. David tries to push the emotional response out of his head right now — something has to have gone terribly wrong for Qubine to need to return to Undelwalt — and tackle this logically.

"All right. I'll put your name down on the registration and fly it to you."

"Thank you. You don't need to make the trip, I'll come over and collect it."

"It makes no sense for you to come into Athlum and then fly out again, it'll add three days to your journey even if you don't get stuck in traffic."

"David I—" A sigh. "Thank you."

"Not yet. Who is your co-pilot?"

A brief silence. "Ah."

"You're talking about a trip to an outer planet, and warping. It's illegal to do that with just one pilot and I'm not having you fall asleep at my ship's controls," says David, who only receives silence in return. "I'll go with you."

That gets a response. "No, David. Don't waste your holiday like that."

"It's just a road trip instead of being on Celapaleis. It's not a waste." And David isn't giving his friend a choice on the matter: he is coming with the ship, or Qubine gets no ship at all. But David hopes he doesn't have to actually say that.

"I..."

"I'll put you on the reg and insurance now. You can make the bookings since you've worked out the route. Pick up some supplies as well. I'll send you my ETA once I'm on my way."

"Then... I'll accept your offer." Qubine's voice has gained a strange tint, as if he has caught the cold. "Having you around will be good. Thank you, I'll see you soon."

 

Just ten hours later, David has briefly touched down at Lamberro Spaceport and left again with Qubine on the ship.

He still has no idea why Qubine suddenly needs to head to Undelwalt — something to do with that DNA test, presumably — and he doesn't actually know if he'll find out. But at the moment his primary concern is that it's been nearly a full day already and Qubine has hardly spoken or slept, all he has done seems to be staring into space, literally.

With the ship on autopilot, David leaves his friend for the moment and gets some food. Like all small vessels, much of the Kellendros's space is taken up by machinery so although from the outside he looks sizeable, the actual useable space is far less. The "kitchen", designed more for storing and warming up food than cooking, is located in the central open area, linked to the cockpit. As David prepares dinner, he hears a chime, and can see Qubine looking at his phone.

David returns to the cockpit with plates of food and cups of tea. Then he sits down, brings up the entertainment controls and begins to look through the options, keeping quiet as Qubine makes a call.

"What is it? ...I'm fine. We're just about to eat."

Faintly hearing a woman's voice coming from Qubine's phone, David can guess that it must be Letitia checking up on her brother. "These are chiburekkis. My mum made them."

"Something called chiburekkis. David's mother made them," Qubine tells his sister, giving David a faint nod. "He's about to put something on... very funny. I think we're going to watch something." A pause, Qubine glancing at what's on the screen. David has been scrolling through the "reality TV" section. "...I don't know, but it looks terrible. ...Yes he is. Now go back to sleep. ...Put Duke on your face. ...Then I have no suggestion to offer."

It's a while longer before Qubine hangs up and starts eating. David eyes him.

"Duke is one of your cats."

"He is."

"Why would you tell your sister to put a cat on her face?"

"It's an old joke... which has nothing to do with a face full of pussy, in case that's what you're thinking." Qubine takes a bite of his dinner and makes an approving sound. "This is delicious."

The phone call seems to have broken the spell Qubine has been under, so now he's capable of conversation. David secretly breathes a sigh of relief. "There are a few left. Help yourself if you want more, they don't keep well anyway."

"Thank you."

David keeps looking through the shows he has downloaded. Maybe he should put on something trashy. "Is Letitia all right?"

"She's fine, just worried. She would have tried to come with me if it wasn't so hard to suddenly drop three cafes and 50 animals on someone else's shoulders. But she's glad that you're here."

"She's only met me once."

"We went to war together. I think she deems you trustworthy."

"Then I'll try not to let her down. She might set the cats on me otherwise."

Qubine smiles a little, then takes another bite of his dinner. Right now he doesn't look like the captain of a battleship, but someone anxious and lost. And David is well aware that Qubine does know how to put up a front; he has just decided not to.

"Would you like to be left alone to think, or would you prefer some distraction?"

"Apart from reality TV, what sort of distraction do you have to offer?"

"Dramas, films, documentaries, comedies..." David flicks through the categories on screen, then, with a half grin, leaves the cockpit for a few seconds and comes back with something in his hands. "I also happen to have this."

Staring at the board game in the old, familiar box, Qubine nearly laughs, his worries already temporarily forgotten. "You took that from my ship?"

"It was mine to begin with, I think you'll find."

"Well I had no idea. We will have to play it, won't we."

"We don't have to if you're afraid of losing."

Qubine smirks. "David."

Right, right. David has just very much made his own bed, and now he's going to lie in it.

But sometimes losing can still be fun. It's all about the company.

 

_The Umbermarici was a strange place. It was, essentially, a giant floating garrison and spacecraft carrier. Those who served this flagship tended to love her and her captains, and she was seen as an exceedingly good example of how a positive culture could be achieved on a ship._

_Not that David knew any different — the Umbermarici was his first ship to station on. And for a teenager who saw the army as his refuge, it was the right ship for him. The people here were generally nice and treated each other like family, but when it all got too much it was easy to find space to be alone, even if it involved volunteering to do kitchen cleaning duty. He'd heard stories about other ships with their commanders and lack of breathing space._

_Things were a bit odd though, sometimes. Some people had a funny attitude towards anyone who'd come through the Elite Programme and didn't want to train with him, whereas others seemed to make it their mission to make sure the elites were coping well. But the elites were expected to really prove their worth on duty and possibly be fast-tracked through their career, so supposedly they were a threat to anyone wanting to move up the hierarchy. Also, there were people old enough to be his parents or even grandparents here. Maybe it was only natural that they behaved weirdly towards the young ones._

_(Some years later he would come to realise that very few people disliked the elites, and the reactions were because people worried about them for very good reasons, or objected to letting children become soldiers, however talented those children were.)_

_And then there was that very strange... phenomenon known was Vice-Captain Qubine, who was the youngest kid on the whole ship, but not really a kid at all. A gefyrian using his neoteny ability to make everyone a bit uncomfortable. What a little shit._

_Or so David thought for all of five seconds, until he looked up the vice-captain's profile on the system and realised two things. Firstly, the vice-captain attracted strange looks when neotenised, but it was something people could get used to. For someone that pretty stuck on a ship like this, the neotenisation probably wasn't out of choice. And secondly, as David himself had suspected for a while, he most definitely liked men._

_His first few months in the new environment were easier than he'd thought they would be. He had expected some kind of ritual humiliation, painful initiation, bullying and the rest for the fresh meat, but perhaps those things only really existed in television dramas. Work was hard, of course, and he'd been stupid enough to try to major in both diplomacy and ground combat just to make life harder for himself, but the real difficulty was actually puberty. And it turned out the facilities officer was very used to dealing with problems from the young'uns — after David made sure his first roommate understood it was nothing personal, then explained to the officer that he was a homo-or-possibly-bisexual dealing with raging hormones who would rather room with a non-mitra for the comfort of everyone, a room swap was achieved._

_The other memorable thing he did in that initial half a year — this time not because of hormones — was play a game with all the other new kids, which was loosely called "see who can take a photo of the vice-captain's normal form first". He wasn't the one who started it, but he was only fourteen and it seemed like a bit of harmless fun._

_The vice-captain was fascinating — a beautiful gefyrian who looked like a small child for work purposes, who came from the Engineering Corp, which was known for producing team leaders but not captains. He didn't start as an elite, and yet managed to climb the ladder at such speed that he made it to vice-captain in his mid-twenties. And he even seemed kind of cool, because it looked like he knew what the new recruits were up to and just let them get on with it._

_David was quite sure he wasn't the only person on the Umbermarici who worshipped Qubine a little bit._

_For some mysterious reason, Qubine sometimes would show up at the classes designed for those who left school early, namely the elites, had to attend. Normally it would be rare for those far down in the structure to see anyone in senior command; David had met Captain Kitterick only twice in his entire first year, for example. But the elites met Qubine once or twice a week, although few conversations were made. And David was dying to talk to him, for reasons he couldn't fathom himself._

_Then one day, during a supply stop at Ghor station, David finally got his chance._

_He had won the game earlier that day, having snapped a photo of Qubine after lying in wait for an hour; he'd heard that Qubine was going to the bar with the captain and worked out that Qubine had got to go as an adult rather than a child. There was no prize for the feat, but David won a few laughs and pats on the shoulders by his peers and that was enough to make him feel rather good._

_After that, he spent half a day working at one of the loading bays, receiving supplies and getting things distributed to various parts of the ship. Much of the process was automated, but the quartermaster made a bunch of the new ensigns help out anyway just because he could._

_When the quartermaster stepped out for a while and just left a lieutenant to supervise them, the ensigns started talking about a video game they had all been playing._

_"Have you got the new expansion yet?"_

_"Not yet. You've tried it?"_

_"Yeah. There's a hidden super boss. Tiny, tiny kid, but hell he's impossible to beat, like the vice-captain!"_

_Out of the corner of his eyes, David had seen Qubine coming in, having returned from his excursion and already changed back into his child-sized uniform, and probably here for a random inspection. And instead of signalling for his colleague to stop talking, words came out of his own mouth, for reasons he could not explain himself:_

_"Don't call the vice-captain that. He isn't tiny, just fun-sized!"_

_He checked for Qubine's reaction — the child-sized man didn't even look angry, just surprised._

_The words drew laughter from all the ensigns, but they all abruptly quieted down when the lieutenant spotted Qubine and greeted him. Qubine made a straight line towards David, who climbed out of the machine he was steering to salute him. The others looked on, fearing for his life._

_"Vice-captain."_

_"Name and rank?"_

_"David, sir. Ensign."_

_Later on David would discover that Qubine actually already knew who he was, just as he knew most of the ship._

_"Athlumian," Qubine noted from David's accent and the pronunciation of his name. "What are you doing on a Celapaleian ship?"_

_God, up close Qubine was even tinier than David remembered. And he looked like a doll. David wondered what Qubine's family looked like._

_"Based on the advice and recommendations from the majors at training camp, sir. Celapaleian or Athlumian, we serve the same army, the same purpose," said David. "I also heard that command here has an excellent sense of humour, sir."_

_That did it. He could see the corners of Qubine's mouth twitching; Qubine was trying not to laugh. David very carefully schooled his own expression to perfect neutralness._

_"I don't know about that — the captain, maybe. I have zero sense of humour myself," said Qubine. "Ensign, you and I are going to play a game."_

_What? "A game?"_

_"Yes. I hear that you're very good at games. Haven't you won one just today?"_

_Oh god. He knew about the photo. This was very not good. "Erm..."_

_"Find a board game. You have permission to go on Ghor to buy one if necessary. Then we'll play it. If you win, you may call me fun-sized again. If you don't, I'll make sure you have ample time to reflect on your mistake," said Qubine merrily. "Did you know that the average mitra can survive up to 90 seconds of vacuum exposure? I'll throw you a helmet after the first 60."_

_David knew Qubine could not be serious with his threat, so he was about to agree (not like he had a choice anyway). But the ensign who initially called Qubine tiny spoke up for him._

_"Sir, those bets seem vastly unfair," said the yamaan teenager who was about four times Qubine's size, and David quickly shook his head at him, signalling for him to stop talking._

_"Privileges of rank. He's expendable." Qubine didn't even need to pause to think. "Unless you want to swap with him? I should remind you that this hidden super boss is impossible to defeat."_

_The yama cringed visibly. "T-this is my fault so I'll—"_

_"It's all right Yuniver, I like board games." David didn't let him finish. He was the one who continued the banter despite having seen Qubine coming in. Also, a chance to play a game with Qubine? He couldn't begin to guess what the consequences could be, but he wanted to find out._

_Some hours later, he sat down with Qubine and played Band of Champions in front of a small audience, and lost._

_"Well, I enjoyed that," said Qubine as he left the table. "Report to Major-General Wagram. Tell him I sent you. You will spend... hmm, four hours with him."_

_"Yes sir."_

_It was still his early days on the Umbermarici, and although Wagram's reputation as a demonic instructor was well-known, David had yet to meet him at that point._

_He soon learned that what people said about Wagram didn't nearly describe the man well enough, likely because the world lacked the words to describe a man this diabolical._

_But only a few days after that, while leaving chemistry class which Qubine also attended, David went over to him and asked, still covered in deep bruises,_

_"Vice-captain, would you care for a rematch?"_

 

"How did you get away with it?" Qubine suddenly asks, and puts context in his question when David looks up from the game board. "Surely everyone must have assumed you were trying to suck up to me."

It takes a while for David to realise Qubine is talking about events from years ago. "Back when we played this? People just thought I was masochistic. I went to you to get pulverised mentally, then you sent me to Wagram to get pulverised physically. I was like the worst chess-boxer anyone'd ever seen."

"Then why did you do it?"

Looking back, David was craving for attention, and craving for punishment. He felt guilty for leaving home; somewhere in the back of his head he thought he deserved Arianne's anger. He did recognise that it couldn't really be true but Wagram's harsh training felt right — it satisfied the feeling that he ought to be punished, yet at the same time it was legitimately just training.

Gosh, he was a messed up child, wasn't he?

As for the board game sessions with Qubine, there was no real reason other than the fact that Qubine intrigued him, really.

"I've told you before: I like playing with you. And there isn't always a reason behind someone's behaviour, especially if that someone's a teenager."

"If it was once or twice, perhaps. But we played nearly every week for... it was quite long."

"What didn't kill me made me stronger."

"I suppose that would have solidified the 'masochistic' impression. That time when Wagram made you run the full length of the ship ten times—"

"While wearing full E5 gear and carrying a sack the weight of a grown mitra. Hmm. I managed eight, I think."

"And ended up in the infirmary with heat stroke, dehydration and messy wounds. Even from Wagram I was surprised. He went too far."

"Haha..." David mulls over the board. He's got so used to losing at this game that it feels like he's already lost. "That armour shredded my legs."

"I remember. I heard you left behind a bloody trail, but it was cleaned up before I saw it."

"And I heard you actually reprimanded Wagram. Was that even true?"

"No. He came to see me and admitted it was his fault. He was quite upset, believe it or not."

Now that is a surprise. David moves his piece, then looks up again with a frown. Qubine nods.

"It's true. He thought you were promising and wanted to break you in, not break you."

"This is news to me. That Wagram was upset?" David drinks his tea. It's strange, reading the board he can see how Qubine is going to play, but he still can't see how to work around that to take victory. "I was surprised enough to find he had a sense of remorse."

"I was sorry too."

"That I know. You told me. I said it had nothing to do with you, and you said it did because you were the one who sent me to Wagram and even if it wasn't you, everything that happened on the ship went back to the captains. That was my first lesson on leadership, I think."

The incident made a deep impression on David, but not because of his injuries. Owning one's mistakes, and one's team's mistakes — Qubine didn't hesitate to apologise to a mere ensign.

"A lesson which could have come at a smaller price, I feel."

"Like I said, what didn't kill me," says David. "Unless, by 'price', you mean the transfusion."

"Of course not."

 

_Word reached Qubine at warp speed, thanks to Major Darien who witnessed the last few minutes of the ensign's stunt, tried to stop him, only to watch the ensign collapse instead. Qubine had the major brief him on what he saw as he made his way to the infirmary, crossing the route David had used just in time to see the lasts of the blood being mopped away._

_Blood on the floor. Literally. After all that effort to eradicate bullying, he had directly contributed to an ensign bleeding all over the ship for no reason other than he wanted to test the boy a little._

_This was not "a little"._

_When he arrived at the infirmary, he told Darien to get people back to their stations since no doubt everyone was standing around gossiping about this. Then he ended communication, put his earpiece away because that thing always felt uncomfortable when he was neotenised, before going to see for himself what the damage was._

_"Vice-captain."_

_Just before the door opened, a voice called behind Qubine. He whipped around, already putting a firm lid on his anger before he set eyes on Wagram._

_"What have you done?"_

_"I gave David the E5 gear without the inner suit," said Wagram, who looked like he had run over here after hastily putting on his uniform. His hair was not tied up like it always was. "The boy showed promise so I wanted to test him with something heavier... a terrible mistake. My mistake."_

_Biting his lower lip, Qubine said nothing, trying to focus on how rare it was that Wagram would make an error — and admit to it._

_"How is he?"_

_"I don't know, I am about to find out," said Qubine, at the same time telling himself not to scream at Wagram. "Wait for me in my office."_

_"Yes sir."_

_Leaving Wagram, Qubine entered the infirmary, which was eerily quiet, without the chatter that was usually present. The senior medic was waiting for him near the door, and they walked through the main area where most patients with minor cuts and bumps were treated._

_David had just received cooling treatment, the senior medic told Qubine. There were a number of wounds on his legs which needed to be temporarily closed with synthetic protein, the same kind that was used on the field, and they were about to properly take care of those. Initial scans revealed no organ damage from the heat stroke, though there appeared to be a hairline fracture in the right humerus._

_This was even worse than Qubine had thought. "Prognosis?"_

_"We will repeat the scans. As long as his insides are fine, then he'll be fine. The fracture will mend by itself." The medic sighed. "If the boy was smarter and knew to stop—"_

_"No. He trusted his superiors to know better than he did, and obeyed an order like he should. This makes him a fine soldier."_

_If David was older, with more life and field experience, then he would know when to doubt an order. Either way, he was not to be blamed._

_The medic very clearly swallowed whatever response she had, and switched to a slightly different topic. "We will need to file a report, sir."_

_Shit. The report. Injury outside of missions with significant recovery time as a direct result of Wagram's whim._

_No, this was Qubine's fault. He enabled Wagram without setting limits. But he now he must do some damage limitation..._

_Or must he? A cover-up would not be fair to the poor ensign._

_Then again..._

_"I'll talk to him first."_

_"Sir..."_

_"You can witness if you like."_

_When Qubine entered the next room, David had come around and his legs were being patched up by two nurses._

_"Is this all right? Do you need more painkillers?"_

_"It's fine. They're just carpet burns, sir."_

_"You're too young to be making that joke," said one of the nurses. "Just call me 'nurse'. If it hurts too much then say something okay? It's my job to make you feel better."_

_"I think I just naturally have a high pain threshold, honestly. I'm not trying to look tough."_

_"Not trying to look tough? After what you've done you're telling me you don't try to look tough?"_

_"Sorry nurse..."_

_One of the downsides — and sometimes upside — of being neotenised to this small was that people often didn't notice his presence. As Qubine approached, he coughed lightly so that people could hear him coming; he didn't like sneaking up on people. Usually._

_The nurses looked up. "Vice-captain."_

_Qubine nodded, and gestured for David to stay still when the boy tried to greet him. "Carry on. I need to talk to him when you're finished."_

_"Yes sir."_

_When there was finally the chance to talk, most of the staff cleared out, but the senior medic and one of the nurses stayed. David had been moved to another bed which had a half-cover that produced lithos rays for his legs, he was receiving something through an intravenous line, and hooked up to a machine that monitored his body temperature._

_"Thank you. This is actually very comfortable," said David, making everyone roll their eyes but smile fondly at the same time. He seemed to be in good spirits. Qubine had a vague idea how their conversation might go._

_"Ensign David."_

_"Sir. I'm—"_

_"My apologies for what has happened. This is unacceptable."_

_Panic fleeted across David's face. The first time Qubine saw it. "Sir! I must have put on the armour incorrectly. This is—"_

_"The E5 gear is not designed for this level of gravity. If one was to use it here, one would require an additional suit which cooled the body and provided underpadding. You wouldn't have known this because it's a rarely-used set and officers are only taught about it when required."_

_David took a moment to digest this. Perhaps he was trying to guess Wagram's intentions. "Even so, sir, this is not your fault at all."_

_Qubine exhaled deeply. "On the contrary, your trainer was under my instruction to test you. Even if that was not the case, all that happens on this ship is my and Captain Kitterick's responsibility."_

_"I... see."_  
..  
"And therefore, I am very sorry." 

_"Erm... okay. Thank you, sir."_

_"Now, because we've ended up here, a report must be filed." Ah, how to phrase this? "They are here in accordance with chaperone policy, ie to ensure I do not pressure you into anything," Qubine explained, gesturing at the two remaining staff._

_There was a pause, then it clearly clicked for David. "I fell down the stairs, sir."_

_Smart, but not smart enough. "Those would have been some very rough stairs. There were too many witnesses of your stunt and enough people who know you train with Wagram for that excuse to work. You cannot cover it up for him, nor would I allow it."_

_David nodded. He had the face of a teenager, but the expression of an adult. Qubine wondered why that was. Even after the training camp, none of the elites ever looked so far beyond their years._

_"Then what is this about, sir?"_

_"You have the option to press for disciplinary action. Well, there will be disciplinary action anyway," Qubine shrugged, "but you can ask for the full force of the law, so to speak."_

_"Would you also get into trouble?"_

_Qubine liked this boy. "That is for me to worry about."_

_David looked away, frowning. There were good reasons to put in a formal complaint, but also good reasons not to. Qubine knew that David majored in both ground combat and diplomacy. What would a budding diplomat do in this situation?_

_"Do you think the Major General is also apologetic?"_

_"I can get him to come here and talk to you. But, if you trust my opinion, I have already talked to him briefly before coming here. He is sorry and he knows he's in a lot of shit."_

_People were often taken off guard and amused whenever Qubine cussed, especially if he was neotenised, and this time it was no exception. They all snorted, David a moment slower than others because of the complete surprise._

_"It sounds like you're not pleased with him, sir."_

_"Of course not. This action will have quite a few reactions, and none of them pleasing. But in a way, thank you, you have given me an opportunity to knock him down a few notches. He needs that every now and then." Qubine put his hands behind his back, and looked around him. "But you did not just hear me say that."_

_Laughter and secretive giggles died down as David mulled over the new information. Qubine turned around and looked up at the medic._

_"How long will it take for him to get better?"_

_"Sir. His legs will heal in ten days or so with lithos treatment. I would like him to stay here until they've fully mended."_

_"Ten days." Qubine frowned. That was too long._

_"Those are not clean cuts, sir, we can't just stitch them up. Most are caused by friction, the equipment has significantly damaged the top layer of the skin as well as part of the lower layer." The medic pointed at the set of armour left on a trolley in the corner of the room. Qubine glared at it like it was an enemy._

_"Vice-captain Qubine?" David had made his decision. "I do not wish to file a complaint."_

_"Are you certain?"_

_"Yes sir."_

_"And may I leave sooner? Surely I can just use bandages after a few days. I'd rather not make too big a deal out of this."_

_"You will receive treatment until you are fully mended. Like I have told you, the consequences are for me to deal with."_

_"Sir, that's not..." David's gaze darted towards the medic and the nurse before returning to Qubine. "From what you said, I'd guess many people know what's happened, the Major General will face disciplinary action and you also intend to... make him tone down. That is quite enough. I don't think the Major General is the sort of person who would react well if pushed too far into a corner."_

_Was this child really just fourteen?_

_And he was right. Wagram's loyalty had not been easy to win. It would be unwise to make him feel even more pressured over this one thing which he already claimed responsibility for. Therefore, it would be best if David was up and about sooner, making it appear that his injuries were much less serious than they first seemed._

_"Fine." Qubine took a step back, then turned around, walking away from David's bed. The medical staff followed him. "He had some blood loss earlier. Let's give him a small transfusion and speed up his recovery."_

_The senior medic understood what he meant. "But taking gefyrian blood from storage creates a record on the system. It'd make his injuries look even more serious... oh."_

_"Find me something to wear so that I can change out of this form. This is not going on the records."_

_Not too much later, Qubine was sitting in a chair in his normal form, dressed in a spare set of scrubs, with a tube going into his arm. Instead of being collected in a bag, blood was passing through a machine — the function of which Qubine wasn't sure of, a kind of dialysis perhaps — and then being given to the ensign._

_It was only going to take a few minutes. The staff stepped out for a bit, and the room became quiet with just the hum of the air conditioning and gentle whirring of the machines filling the air. After a moment, David turned onto his side, away from Qubine._

_"Are you all right? Should I call the nurse?" Qubine asked. Maybe those wounds were getting too painful?_

_"Just embarrassed, sir."_

_Cute kid. "This is fixing a problem and limiting further damage, in both literal and less literal ways."_

_"I understand."_

_"Next week we will play Band of Champions again. And when you lose I will have something different for you to handle."_

_"If I lose."_

_"When you lose."_

 

"Oh god. This is mortifying."

David has put on a gadget that comes with the Kellendros, a sort of optical head-mounted display with a small screen over his right eye, which allows him to check their flight data without having to keep turning back to the controls. They are on auto-pilot so it's not actually necessary, but David does love flying this ship.

"What is mortifying?" The brim of his mug pressed against his lips, Qubine pauses to ask, then drinks his tea. "Are you just watching something on your eyepatch?"

"It's not an eyepatch," said David, pulling a face. "I just realised you saw me naked back then, in the infirmary."

That thought has actually never crossed Qubine's mind, but David's right, he did. "If it helps, all I saw was the nasty damage all over your legs."

"You saw me naked when I was fourteen."

"Yes, so?"

"You were a ten-year-old fun-sized pervert!"

He—

Qubine bursts out laughing and almost spills his tea, luckily steadying it just in time. Several game pieces on his side of the board are not so fortunate however, getting knocked over by an elbow and sent clattering onto the floor.

"Or we can see it as you having indecently exposed yourself to a ten-year-old," Qubine says, still trying not to giggle, bending over to retrieve his attackers. Gosh, he can't believe David just said that. "And you still can't call me fun-sized."

"So, did you just randomly decide to decimate your own defense squad or is this complete forfeiture, pervert?" A foot sweeps one of the pieces out of Qubine's reach, and a hand casually moves a piece on the board. Qubine's formation has officially crumbled. "Either way, I am allowed to call you fun-sized, because I've just won."

Qubine is not the type to drop his jaw, but from the way David's eyes are crinkling in amusement, he knows that his face must be quite funny right now.

"When you knocked over the board last time I was kind enough to declare a draw!"

"I should have been the winner that time too, and you know it."

That's...

Well, David is actually right.

"Fine. But you may not call me a pervert." But it does feel nice to laugh. And as tension ebbs out of Qubine, a deep yawn brews between his eyes and escapes from his mouth, suddenly making him aware of how tired he is.

David is looking at him, his head slightly tipped to one side, a smile still in his eyes. "Go to bed."

"Yes, I guess I should." Qubine gathers all the fallen pieces, including the one by David's foot, placing them in the lid of the game's box. "Please wake me up when it's time to change shift."

"I will. There's gas in the bedside drawer if you need."

"Okay. Thank you." Sleeping gas to help travellers adjust to timezones is nothing unusual, though David is of course suggesting it because Qubine has been too stressed to rest. But perhaps not today, thanks to the laughs. "I probably won't need it. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

The two bedrooms on the Kellendros are small, but furnished with comfort in mind. Qubine's travel case is by the foot of his bed, it had not been opened since he boarded to ship. Ah, perhaps he should take a shower soon.

Soon, but not right now. He should sleep when he can. When thoughts of the purpose of this trip are very much still on the forefront of his mind, but diluted enough that "worry" is not the only feeling he has.

He cannot wait to get to Undelwalt, and yet, once he's there, he doesn't know what he should do. Needs to do. He only knows that if it doesn't go well, it is something he may, no, will definitely rue for the rest of his life.

So many possibilities, so many scenarios to consider. But later. Now he will rest, so as not to waste the efforts of a good friend who dropped everything to help him, no questions asked.

He truly loves David very much. He hopes David knows that.


	31. Chapter 31

Being home again is awesome. But also weird. Not bad-weird, just weird-weird, and Rush can't really say why at first. It's not like he hasn't been out of training camp all this time — there were two days off every two weeks — and it's only been half a year anyway, it's not like civilian life is now entirely foreign to him. But somehow, he just feels like he doesn't quite... fit.

By the second day, while doing the washing up after dinner, he's worked it out: he's preventing himself from getting too comfortable. He's back home with family but he's missing them already, because he knows he's going to go away again in a few weeks. And in the long run, if he gets to station on his dream ship, he won't be seeing his family nine, ten months of the year. If he gets too comfortable at home now, if he settles in, leaving is going to be hard.

But he loves being home, of course, and he doesn't mind answering the endless questions from his friends and family. The daily routines, flight training, combat, and all the legal stuff he has to learn. The tutors, the other cadets, his five roommates. Weekends in Lamberro that sometimes got a bit out of hand and half the time he ended up being the mother hen who made sure everyone got back to camp.

"And hey, do you remember Dave's friend Qubine?"

"That super pretty man you got set up with last year?"

"Yeah. Turns out he's the captain of the Umbermarici."

Irina's eyes widen a bit. "And that's..."

Rush goes over to his father's display cabinet and points at one of the models. "This one. It's one of the biggest battleships in the fleet."

"Oh my god. You're serious?"

"Yeah. He's the captain of the ship I want to get onto. Dave's put us in touch, we talk on the phone sometimes. He's really really nice."

Irina shakes her head at her brother. "Is your life even real?"

Sometimes Rush wonders about that too.

Qubine's been in touch recently, actually. Something urgent has come up — he was very, very vague about it — so he needed to make a trip to the another planet. David, despite being told not to, stepped up to help, so they wouldn't be on Celapaleis, and couldn't go over to Eulam to visit Rush.

It was really obvious Qubine wasn't going to explain further, which didn't annoy Rush, only worried him. But with David also there, it means there are two very capable people solving a problem together, right?

It's a shame, though. Rush has been hoping that David could come over. Of course he didn't say that to Qubine, who was very apologetic and talked about how he was dragging David away from a holiday he deserved. It ended up that Rush had to reassure him that a road trip was also a kind of holiday too.

Thinking about it, all Rush knows about David's current condition is from what Qubine has told him. All he's heard is that David lost his previous shore leave, and Qubine mentioned difficulty at work that he couldn't disclose to Rush.

They can look after each other though, surely.

Rush decided not to tell them about his birthday, which is just days after he got home. Towards midnight, his family drag him to the living room where some presents are wrapped and waiting for him on the dining table.

"Stop poking me!"

"I still can't believe how big your arms have got," Irina mutters, jamming her index finger into Rush's bicep. "And they're so solid! You're all soldier-y!"

"That's the point." Rush glares at her and jerks his arm away. Actually he's quite proud of his progress and she probably knows, but he doesn't want to look too smug. "Training does that."

"Do your clothes still fit?"

"Yeah."

"Well you can make Dad go shop with you anyway since he only got you one present."

"Is it more socks?"

Rush's mother chuckles, picks up a gift and puts it in his hands. "Why don't you find out?"

 

"No more. Spare me."

"As a named pilot of this ship, you really should review all the safety videos," says David. "But I think we've peaked. Nothing tops that one."

They've just watched the qsiti version of the flight safety video, in which everyone looked like they were screaming internally, with forced, frozen smiles on their faces. They must have done at least fifty takes of the video.

"Those poor people, they looked like they were being held at gunpoint." Chuckling, Qubine gets up. "Drink?"

"Water."

David picks up his computer and goes back to the newspaper he was reading. It's been a few days, and they sometimes talk, but much of the time has been spent not doing very much in particular. Relaxing. Once in a while David makes sure they interact or watch something so that Qubine isn't sucked into his thoughts for too long.

The reason behind this trip is still unclear to David. But whatever it is, it would be a difficult conversation, if there was to be a conversation at all. Of course David is curious, but he is not going to demand to know. And his worries aside, he is enjoying this trip. It's been a long time since he last had time just to himself.

Qubine is here but he doesn't count in this case. This is like inviting one's best friend over and then each person mostly doing their own thing. It's a kind of companionable alone time, or at least it is for David. He assumes Qubine isn't feeling neglected.

God, if this was a few years ago, being alone with Qubine for such a length of time would be dream come true. Or maybe a strange kind of torture. These days, David is still very fond of the man but it doesn't feel heart-wrenching anymore.

A glass of water is placed into the holder near David, and a coffee put into the other one. Just as Qubine sits down again, the alarm clock on David's phone goes off. Smiling, David puts down the tablet and switches off the beeping.

"I need to call Rush."

"Yes?"

"It's his birthday." It's half an hour past midnight at Eulam City now. That should be enough time for Rush to open presents and do anything else he immediately needs to do.

David rings the number, and with the assumption that Qubine would want to talk to Rush too, puts the phone on speaker. The call gets picked up on the third ring.

"Dave!"

Haha, Rush sounds excited. "Rush, just so you know, you're on speaker right now and Qubine's beside me."

A pause. "What, so I should watch my language or something? Hey Qubine!"

"Well, he's potentially your future captain..."

"Hello Rush. Happy birthday." Qubine already seems amused. Rush does have that mysterious power of being able to light up a room even when he's lightyears away.

"Thanks! And fuck you, Dave. _Fuck. You._ "

And now David is grinning too. "Hello to you too. I guess you opened your present."

"Yes and I nearly cried!" Rush shouts down the phone. "Well maybe I actually cried a bit... and started glowing again..."

Qubine arches his brows as he looks at David, curious. "I got him a ticket to see his favourite band," David explains.

"Ah, I see."

"This is for like, the bit nearest to the stage! Dave, how? They sold out so fast!"

David leans back and crosses his legs. "The same way I got my captainship — I sucked some cock."

A startled chuckle from Qubine, and through the speaker comes a disgruntled yell.

"Please don't bring that up ever again."

All right, all right. "I know someone who knows someone." It was just a guess that Sheryl, the Cosmos Maiden David once ferried on the Valeria Heart, would have a way to get hold of a ticket to see Omnistrike's gig. It turns out Sheryl actually once had a fling with the band's drummer, whom she's still friends with. But she asked David not to tell anyone. "I didn't even have to pay for it."

"Oh thank god. I've been looking at the prices on auction sites and they're insane, I was worried you spent a fortune on it!"

"No, no. Sorry I could only you get one, though. I tried for two."

"Are you kidding? Nobody needs to see me going crazy at an Omnistrike gig! The ticket is perfect and amazing and thanks so much!"

"You're welcome."

"No wonder Irina told me to keep that day free!"

"Yes she knew. Actually she told me what you wanted, so you should thank her."

"Nah, sisters are for blaming stuff on!"

"I agree," Qubine chimes in. "Never be grateful to a sister."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," says Rush with a laugh. "It only invites trouble."

"Give them an inch and they think they can organise your life."

"Ha, I think Irina and your sister can be good friends. Anyway, how're you guys, are you getting cabin fever yet?"

This sounds like Rush already knows that they are travelling together. Qubine must have told him, then. Still, unsure what else Rush knows, David gestures for Qubine to answer the question instead of him.

"I think we're going to be fine. This is a rather nice ship and David has been pleasant enough, I suppose."

Giving his friend a sidelong look, David slowly raises an eyebrow. "This is a remarkably nice ship and my company is extremely pleasant."

"Don't go over the top, David. Too many adverbs make you sound common."

"How dare you."

"Oh, I do dare."

"I will help you out the airlock after this call," David tells Qubine. "Anyway, while we're all here... Rush, are you planning to apply to station on the Umbermarici?"

"What? Duh, of course I am! I told you before," says Rush.

David gives Qubine a look that says "I told you so" but somehow although Qubine seems fine with the idea, he doesn't look as happy as David thought he would be. Hasn't Qubine been very interested in Rush's progress all this time? 

"Oh but I'm not saying that hoping you'd help me, Qubine."

"Just do your best at cadet school and you will be fine. My ship sounds more popular than it actually is; not that many are keen on being away from home for so long. Ships like the Valeria Heart gets to return to base much more often."

David frowns lightly. What's Qubine doing? "Unfortunately she's based on Athlum so logistically it doesn't work out for you, Rush."

"Haha, it really doesn't... you're always stopping for just a few days, that's not long enough if I want to go home from Athlum."

"You should both just move. Come to Celapaleis."

"What's it with you suggesting people to move to Celapaleis recently?" David asks Qubine. "You've said that to me before, at the bar on Ghor's birthday."

"Oh, you remember that part?"

"I wasn't too drunk at that point."

"Ha. Well, you're looking for somewhere to move. Why not Celapaleis? It's a wonderful planet."

"Is finding the best people for your ship not good enough anymore, now you're recruiting for your planet in general as well?"

Actually David isn't too surprised, even if Qubine is only half-joking. He loves Celapaleis because she had saved his life. And she is indeed a great planet. But serious or not, perhaps Qubine doesn't really understand the true strength of family ties. And just as Qubine is proud of Celapaleis, David is proud of Athlum too. He isn't going to just up stakes and emigrate.

"You make it sound like you're worth recruiting. I was simply being nice."

On the other end of the phone, Rush bursts out laughing. "Burn..."

David rolls his eyes. "I was being nice too, to let you use this ship. But, it's odd, suddenly I don't feel like being nice anymore."

"Sounds like you two have cabin fever!"

"We've put up with each other for ten years, we can cope for a bit longer." Qubine lets out a heavy sigh. "But it is your birthday, let's talk about you. Did you get other presents?"

The call doesn't last too long because Rush has to go out and meet friends for birthday drinks. He does send a message straight afterwards, though, asking David and Qubine when their birthdays are.

"He's so excited about that gig, if he were a puppy he would've broken his tail wagging it," says Qubine as he replies to the message. His birthday is near the start of the year by Elysion's calendar whereas David's is towards the end.

"That's a painful image. But quite accurate." David is very glad that his birthday gift worked out. "See, I told you he wants to be on your ship."

"I didn't quite believe it, he strikes me as someone who wants to be close to family."

"Whereas I look like the sort who doesn't mind moving and leaving family behind?"

Qubine looks a bit confused by the question. "You were on the Umbermarici for many years."

He does have a point. But he doesn't know David's reason for choosing that ship to begin with. "I suppose."

"I'm sorry if my words seemed mindless..."

"It's all right. It's not that long a journey between our planets, I'm just surprised by the suggestion."

Qubine is starting to get that look again, as if he's starting to become preoccupied by too many thoughts in his head. It's not like the mood here is immediately sinking after they got off the phone with Rush, but David feels like he should try to do something anyway.

"I'm going to find a show to watch. Do you want me to use headphones?"

"What are you watching?"

"I don't know." Qubine wants the distraction, then. "What do you feel like?"

"Something... lowbrow. Not too much thinking."

David snorts. Lowbrow. That shouldn't be difficult. He brings up the entertainment controls, goes through the lists, and stops on something.

"'Drag Race: an all-women competition in which the best crossdresser is crowned king'?"

Qubine stares at the title image onscreen, looking shocked. "What on..."

"There's a lot of fighting and backstabbing."

"Not the sort of lowbrow I was hoping for."

Right. Next. "'Pimp My Ride: ship restoration and customisation'. Usually it's loud and garish and full of fragile masculinity."

Qubine winces. "This sounds terrible."

"Shall we?"

"Yes. Oh, David, I'm thinking..."

"Hmm?"

"I can't let Rush work on my ship."

David can't tell if Qubine is being serious. "Why?"

"He would end up eating all of Darien's cookies."

That's true. Darien is probably going to love Rush. As will everyone else.

"He can bake more himself."

"A self-perpetuating cookie machine. I like the idea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This trip to Undelwalt & back was supposed to take up 2 chapters and ended up nearly 10 chapters long oops. I'm the master of planning things out. orz There'll be much more of this coming. >_>"
> 
> btw thanks for all the kudos and comments -- over 100 kudous? I didn't even know there are more than 10 people in this fandom! Where the hell are all you guys, how can I find you to talk TLR with???


	32. Chapter 32

Dinner is an easy gnocchi meal made on the cooker. It's not bad, but it really doesn't feel healthy. When they have the stop over, David needs to find a gym and put in a few hours' work, or at least take a long walk. He feels sluggish from the sitting around and the food.

"By the way, have you seen the email about the trial programme being extended?"

Qubine looks like he is really enjoying his dinner, swallowing another big mouthful before speaking. "Yes. I did have a quick chat with Bob to express my distinct displeasure that, as the person who created the programme, I was kept out of the loop. I guess that's why I got copied in this time. As it turned out, by the time I spoke to him the decision to keep the Heart flying had already been made."

David doesn't know if he should believe that entirely. Qubine could very well have done something to save the programme, or things could have happened just as he said. But that is not important right now. "Could you repeat that?"

"They've decided to extend the programme before I had the chance to throw a hissy fit."

"No, the bit before that."

"I got copied in after telling Bob to keep me informed?"

"Who is Bob?"

"Head of Organisational Development. The tall blond with full facial hair. I thought he was at your—"

Realisation dawns. " _The Conqueror_?"

"Ah yes, also commonly known as the Conqueror."

"You call him _Bob_? Is he a Robert?"

"No, it's short for Bobby. It's a common Veyriellian name."

For a few seconds, David loses his ability to form words.

"What's the matter?"

"On Athlum that's a typical name you'd give to a pet. To find out that it's also the name of such an intimidating man..."

"You find him intimidating?"

David tips his head and frowns lightly. "You don't?"

"He's not a terrible man, actually. Not much of a conversationalist and not very good at listening either, but he mostly makes good decisions, somehow." Qubine shrugs. "I don't think he's intimidating. But he tends to act weird and looks uncomfortable when I'm in my child form which I find quite funny."

"That's totally news to me."

"I'm a bit surprised. I saw you being awestruck when you met Ghor, but you don't seem easily intimidated."

That's a compliment, probably. "He could have grounded my ship and scattered my team. I really couldn't see him as just another person."

"I see. Anyway, well done for saving the programme." Qubine nods a little, and scoops more gnocchi into his mouth. It's not that he is messy, but anyone who doesn't know him would probably imagine him to be very a graceful eater, and be surprised by the truth. "What are your future plans?"

That's out of left field. "As in?"

"I was just wondering if you have career plans. Does the Valeria Heart meet your ambitions, or would you eventually move on to something else?"

That's very much out of left field. "I've... not considered. Fulfilling missions and keeping the ship flying has been a task in itself enough that I haven't tried to," or can't, "see beyond it."

Actually, in the years since David joined the army, Qubine has been responsible for most of David's career decisions; David's own ambitions have very little to do with anything. It's not as sinister as it sounds, really — if the Umbermarici was an orchestra, then David was a musician and Qubine the conductor. Of course David was his own person and could play his own music, but the point of being in an orchestra was that he would play just the way he was told to.

"If the Valeria Heart was taken away?"

"Up stakes, move house, open a cat cafe on Fornstrand," says David. "I don't know. I'd rather not consider the possibility."

"I just thought there may be something you particularly want to do. Maybe you want to captain a battleship, or..."

"Even if I wanted to do that, I don't see them commissioning more battleships, so it can't happen until one of the current captains leaves."

"That is true. But there may be opportunities outside the Intergalactic, such as Athlum's own forces?"

These questions are worth thinking about, but David doesn't want to consider them too deeply. It'd feel like he was planning to abandon his crew. "How about you? Will you stay on the Umbermarici for thirty more years until you retire?"

That clearly gets Qubine thinking as he cleans his bowl. "Unlikely. Eventually I'd like to be a bit closer to home. Even something that lets me go home daily. A position that secures the territorial space around Celapaleis, say."

That is a real surprise. It's hard to imagine Qubine not working on the Umbermarici. But that's not to say that it doesn't make sense for Qubine to want a change eventually; one could only give that much. Surely even Qubine knows that his imaginary debt to the Intergalactic Army has long been repaid.

"Though," Qubine suddenly adds, staring at his empty bowl, "it also depends on what happens on Undelwalt later."

"I see." It will possibly be a life-changing thing, then.

"I'm sorry, I'm not ready to talk about it."

"That's fine."

"Is there any more of this?"

"In the fridge. It just boils in the bag."

Qubine leave his seat to get more food. David can only hope that he just likes this particular gnocchi, and isn't stress-eating.

"Do you want to watch something?"

"Yes. Just no more of the last one," says Qubine from behind the fridge door.

Haha. "Too terrible?"

"So bad it did a 180 to become good and then another 180 to become bad again."

They've stopped watching just before it stopped being funny, at least. David tries to look for something totally different to watch next.

"How about an old detective drama? It's in Athlumian with Standard subtitles."

"Sure."

 

_After nearly a — delightfully peaceful — year, the board game between the vice-captain and the ensign was simply accepted as something that happened. Occasionally there would still be an audience or two, but most of the time nobody watched it anymore. Sometimes Qubine would arrange to play at locations more suited to his other tasks on hand. David did say he didn't want to take up Qubine's time if the vice-captain was busy, but Qubine enjoyed the games and he was rather good at multitasking, as a good vice-captain should be._

_Qubine had kept an eye on David, as he did all the other elites, but David in particular was truly... something. According to his roommate Torgal and several of the colonels, David threw himself into every duty he was given, and he wasn't simply powered by the enthusiasm of a newcomer — he worked like it was the most important thing in his life, be it cleaning the showers or assisting patrol on small-scale missions._

_Actually, David reminded Qubine a little of himself when he first began his service._

_Truth to be told, Qubine would have found this attitude a little worrying if Torgal had not also said that David was apparently popular amongst those of his rank. Torgal was an old-timer who transferred to the Umbermarici a few years ago, and like most sovanis he wasn't known as a people person, but even he seemed to have become more sociable since rooming with David. There was no denying it, the boy was special._

_Although hard graft and smarts couldn't always make up for lack of experience and David's work wasn't perfect, he was good enough to be marked for promotion after the upcoming shore leave, and would be skipping a rank. Nothing highly unusual in that — sometimes this happened to elites and others who gave outstanding performance as long as there was room for promotion within the ship. And the Umbermarici was going through one of those phases when many were hitting retirement age or applying to transfer to ships closer to home._

_In fact, the ship was having some difficulties with the staff turnover. Most of it was natural, and in theory it was a wonderful thing that so many on the battleship lived and served until retirement, but it was just too many at once. Qubine was wrestling with this when he gave David temporary access to the top deck and told the boy to bring the board game to his office so that he could keep working on it while they played._

_"What are your career plans?"_

_That was obviously not a question David was expecting. He paused in the middle of moving a piece. "Sir. I'm not certain at the moment."_

_"I seem to remember you are specialising in diplomacy and ground combat. Which are you stronger in?"_

_"I... would guess my corporals would know that far better than I do."_

_The response of a diplomat. "Because you haven't yet been tested hard enough in either. It's been a bit easy for you so far, hasn't it?" asked Qubine. "If we don't count your lessons with Wagram, that is."_

_"It has been a peaceful year, sir."_

_Qubine smirked. David was a classic all-rounder, competent even in areas he wasn't specialising in. And Qubine was quite sure that David knew it, but one simply didn't complain if the work was too easy. The real work would start the coming year, when David was a bit older and a lieutenant._

_Actually, maybe that observation was a bit generous — David wasn't good at everything. Board games, or at least this particular board game, for example, was not his strong suit. But it was by involuntary choice, so to speak. David was deliberately losing. At first Qubine wondered if the boy did it to make him feel good, but that did not seem to be the case. David was unconsciously choosing to lose._

_It was Qubine's turn. He began his attack, then turned his attention back to his computer. He had six people in the senior levels leaving, and a few requesting transfers. Each department had proposed how to shift their people around, and Qubine needed to look over it all, show the commander, then forward it to the relevant corps for further approval; these people worked for him, but they all belonged somewhere else too. Qubine knew how it all worked, but he wished he didn't need to. He disliked the complicated structure with a passion._

_"If you're busy, sir..."_

_Well, it wasn't any sort of secret. "Just checking to ensure we have a good crew next year," Qubine told David, turning to face his young opponent. "It all looks acceptable except—"_

_The situation on the board had changed. He was losing. What kind of a move did David make? Last time Qubine looked, he had—_

_Wait a minute._

_Did David—_

_The moment Qubine looked up at David with accusation of cheating on the edge of his lips, the whole board flipped, knocked by David's hand in one corner, sending pieces flying everywhere, one landing in Qubine's mug of water with a plonk._

_Qubine stared, his mouth agape._

_"David!"_

_That might have been the first time he addressed David only by his name._

_"What a terrible thing to have happened, sir," said David, his face totally neutral like the best of comedians. "You were winning, too."_

_Qubine couldn't even make himself feel annoyed. "I was. Whatever should I do?" He looked about him with some drama, his gaze sweeping over the pieces scattered on the floor. "I suppose we would have to declare a draw this time."_

_"We would."_

_So David cheated and then destroyed the game, but Qubine did look away first. He was a military commander, he should know better than to take his eyes off the battlefield or assume his enemy would always fight fair. Oh, if Captain Kitterick saw this he would have declared David the winner._

_The boy must have realised that the only way for him to win is not to play, or to play outside the rules._

_David stood and began to gather everything back together. Doing nothing to help, Qubine simply watched until David returned to the desk, stared at the white submarine piece in Qubine's mug, half-submerged in water._

_"That... is not how a submarine works," said David with a wry grin, taking out the piece and drying it on his sleeve._

_At that point Qubine just couldn't help himself but begin laughing._

_Despite the circumstances behind which they first spoke to each other, David had always been polite and formal, just as he should be. Qubine had seen him with his peers at class before, but this was the first time that smile was directed at Qubine, and he wondered if the boy was aware of his own powers. With dedication, talent, and such charismatic charm, David could go far if given the right nurturing._

_And what the boy had done just now was not merely an attempt to change a losing game to a winning one; he noticed that Qubine was stressing over something else so he attempted some comic relief. The fact that it ended their game early so that Qubine could concentrate was certainly a bonus._

_Let's see what else David could do._

_"As I was saying before our game so tragically ended," Qubine said, gesturing for David to sit, "I'm in the middle of reviewing the crew structure for next year, on the captain's behalf."_

_David nodded cautiously. "I have heard that there are several of the top ranks leaving us."_

_"The unfortunate result of having a ship that only returns home every ten months or so; I can't exactly ask them to stagger their retirements," said Qubine. "It's all been worked out, actually, except I now need to work around a sudden development."_

_Realisation flashed across David's eyes. "Major Sapphire is pregnant."_

_"Correct. So the major and her partner won't be rejoining us after shore leave. Another disadvantage of our long deployment time."_

_"Have there been births on this ship before, sir? Apart from yourself?" asked David, half-smiling when Qubine arched an eyebrow. "It's just hard to imagine you not being on the ship."_

_Such cheek. "You'd be surprised," Qubine muttered. Surely such a comment should be directed at Wagram, not him. "There was a birth some years ago. It was before my time, but I heard both mother and baby were safe. Still, there were numerous complications and inconveniences no mother would want to suffer," he paused, then added, "if you get the chance, ask Kitterick about 'nappy-gate'."_

_His mouth pressed into a thin line, David nodded with mock fear in his eyes._

_"Anyway. Because I'm losing a Major, I'm reconsidering the plans. You are on Sapphire's deck, aren't you?"_

_"Yes sir."_

_"What do you think?" Qubine turned his screen so that David can read the draft structure so far._

_"I'm not certain if I'm the—"_

_"Just tell me what you think."_

_David straightened his back and studied the screen. The apprehension was now kept out of his expression. "Lt. Jorgen is competent in management, he is well-respected and will perform well in the major's role. However..." he paused, clearly hesitating just out of politeness, "he aims to start specialising in tracking. This particular Major position has to oversee the entire deck, and while it would be a promotion, it would not be in the direction he wanted."_

_"Jorgen wants to specialise?" Qubine hadn't heard about it._

_"He discussed it with LtCdr. Maddox recently and was encouraged to go ahead."_

_"And you know that because..."_

_"Just everyday conversations in the cafeteria, sir."_

_Qubine made a mental note to find out more about this. "Jorgen is due a promotion, but maybe Maddox would know best where to put him. But if that's the case, then Deck 13 still lacks a Major."_

_He had an idea who he would choose instead, but wondered what the super rookie would say._

_Silence. David got the cue but said nothing._

_Maybe some reassurance was needed. "You aren't the only person I'll ask."_

_"It really is not my place to make suggestions."_

_"Who said you're making suggestions? I'm after observations."_

_At this stage David must know he was not going to get out of this without saying anything. He looked at the draft chart again. "Lt. Semry excels at administration, has a great touch with people and may flourish given the opportunity. Moreover, nearly half of the current majors are mitra, if the right person happens to be of another race then it is a bonus."_

_Interesting. Very interesting. David kept his "observations" brief, but Semry was Qubine's backup choice too. Also, as a mitra himself David was aware of the proportions of people in a particular rank had more of his own people and did not reflect the ship's racial makeup._

_"This reminds me... I talk to Torgal quite regularly. He once mentioned that he is rooming with you after you requested to swap for a non-mitra roommate. You're not one of those mitra-haters, are you?"_

_If that was the case, then there were serious issues. Balance and positive discrimination was one thing, but some took it to the extreme. Qubine could not have that on this ship. In fact, they couldn't have that anywhere in the army._

_David uncharacteristically started to flush, his dark skin taking on a hint of red. "No sir. I was.... that was... biology. Certain hormones started just as I came on the ship."_

_Oh._ Oh. _Qubine had not imagined that would be the answer. Now he had embarrassed the hell out of David. What should he say? Ah, he could shift the focus. "I see. Teenage years can be unkind. That's one of the reasons why I choose to be ten, despite the physical disadvantages."_

_A pause. "This is you as... a ten-year-old, sir?" Still blushing, David's eyes widened a little. "I thought it might be younger, around nine or even eight."_

_"I was small for my age." If Qubine had been fed properly then that wouldn't have been the case, but that couldn't be changed now. His cells remembered how he was at a particular point in time, and would only neotenise to exactly that. "Anyway. As long as you're not a mitra-hater. I can't tolerate them."_

_"No sir. One of my siblings is a civil rights campaigner so I might be a bit more aware of certain issues that's all."_

_"Hmm." Qubine nodded. "Regarding your earlier remark — the captain and I are aware of the situation. It is unfortunate, but we promote purely based on attitude, ability and experience."_

_"Sir! I didn't mean that—"_

_"I know." Qubine waved dismissively. "So. Semry. Tell me more about him."_

_This time David only hesitated for half a second. "Lt. Semry is the second oldest child of a big family of nine. Before enlisting he considered becoming a professional carer, but the career opportunities were diminishing because of servbots and advanced medicine; all the jobs were end-of-life care for people who wouldn't live another week, which he found too hard to bear," said David, stopping for a moment as he searched his memory. "He enlisted after visiting the IA booth at a recruitment fair, joining the Logistics Corp. Most recently he fought in the Harphlus Conflict, providing air assault support. Although he's from Logistics he's physically incredibly strong. He enjoys... hmm... optimising processes and resources, and helps the quartermaster a lot voluntarily. He also enjoys looking after the others, I would not call him a gentle giant since he never hesitates to tell the lower ranks off, but he only does it when they deserve it, and he has conducted himself in such a manner that he always gains more friends than enemies."_

_That was... quite impressive. "Is this just coincidence or do you know so much about everyone on your deck?"_

_"I just enjoy conversations, sir, whether they are with my peers, my superiors or the non-combat staff."_

_Conversations just like this one, Qubine suddenly realised. In just the past few minutes David had learned that Qubine was small for his age, that he did not tolerate mitra-haters, and that the captains were aware of the racial imbalance at one of the ranks. It wasn't that David was here to fish for information, and he certainly gave away some things about himself too — but unlike most people, he didn't stick to just talking to those immediately around him._

_This was very, very interesting._

_Qubine smiled, rested his hands on his desk, fingers weaving together._

_"I have a little project for you."_

 

"Little projects". Qubine always has a few of them running at once, unusual tasks for officers with unusual skills, and some of these projects are anything but little.

He told David to learn about the career aspirations of the people on the ship, with no time limit, and so David ingratiated himself with every deck, every area he could reach. As a youngster he was already a good listener, and most people happily opened up to him. At first it went unnoticed, but eventually even senior command, whom David had nearly no access to, detected something was going on.

Qubine vividly remembers the day Captain Kitterick sat down across the table from him at the cafeteria and started asking about David.

_"That blond Athlumian, is he your protégé or prodigy?"_

_"David? I've taught him nothing. His merits are his own."_

_"Someone like that would do well with some guidance, otherwise—"_

_"It either gets to his head or he wastes his potential. I know. What do you think I've been doing? I said I haven't taught him, it doesn't mean I haven't been keeping an eye on him."_

_"Just don't let Wagram try to kill him again."_

_"Thanks for the reminder, Captain."_

_"Right, I better go. It's never a good sign when you call me captain."_

_"If you stop annoying me then I won't call you captain, Captain."_

"What's with the evil smile? Are you having filthy thoughts about my ship?"

"Good morning," says Qubine to his friend who is sliding into the chair beside him. "Did you sleep well?"

David, dressed in grey sweater and black trousers, sits down for a second, then decides he needs something from the kitchen and gets up again. "Hmm. You can go to bed and stop molesting the controls now."

"Why, but I think the Kellendros likes my touch."

"Get off, get off." Turning on his heels, David comes back and all but lifts Qubine out of his seat. "Stop touching him like that, you'll confuse him! He's mine!"

"My piloting skills are very good. I'm sure you can share."

"Kellendros isn't xiphosian and neither are you."

"Fine, fine. You stay there and stroke your husband. Do you want a coffee? I'll get you one."

"Tea please," says David, watching Qubine go to the kitchen area. "Why were you smirking just now?"

"Just thinking about Kitterick telling me not to let Wagram try to kill you again."

"When did he say that?"

"I don't remember exactly, but it was quite early on. He had his eyes on you."

"Really?" A pause. "I only know he nearly had his hands on me."

"Pardon?" Qubine freezes. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

David turns his head briefly to glance at Qubine before putting his attention back to the controls again. "There was once when the Umbermarici was near Crookfen for a meeting, and half of the senior command went to a bar afterwards," he says with amusement in his voice. "I got instruction to pick up Captain Kitterick with a landing ship because he drank too much. He started hitting on me as soon as we touched down."

Qubine cannot believe what he is hearing. "Kitterick doesn't like men."

"Apparently he did when he was drunk. Or he mistook me for a woman? I never found out."

This can't possibly be true. But David can't be lying. Qubine vaguely remembers following a group to a pub on Crookfen, and although he wasn't a drinker himself, there was plenty of alcohol for the others. At one point there was some sort of giggly discussion as to who they should get to take Kitterick back, and they settled on young Major David because he was a discreet sort of person who would not gossip.

And they were not wrong at all — David indeed exercised much discretion. If he had uttered a single word about this at the time, Kitterick would not have the smooth retirement he is currently enjoying. 

"Dear god. I think I was the one who got him drunk too, because I gave him all of my drinks. What happened after that?"

"I laughed, said no thanks and suggested that he got some sleep. He said okay and told me I was pretty before leaving. Neither of us ever mentioned it afterwards. I don't know if he even remembers."

"That is so wrong!"

"I was 17 at the time, not a minor, and he left me alone after I turned him down. It's fine."

"But he was your commander. You were able to say no, but if you had felt that you couldn't refuse, then..."

"Well, I hadn't. And it was nice to have someone tell me they liked the way I looked, just as a genuine compliment," says David. "Anyway, I admired the captain, but not that way. Even if I wasn't already seeing someone I would still have turned him down."

"You were seeing someone then?"

"Yes, I was with someone on the ship." David glances around again. "Now I remember: you didn't know about that."

Qubine wonders if he's heard that right. "No, I didn't know about that. You were going out with someone on the Umbermarici?"

"Since I was... 16. We were discreet. It didn't last that long before the relationship faded, but we were still friends afterwards."

"Who was it, David? Er... maybe, who were they?"

Tea made, Qubine puts it down in the holder near David, and sees him smiling wryly.

"Do you want to guess?"

"I don't even know how to start guessing." Does David have a type? Someone like Rush, perhaps? But Qubine can't think of anyone like that.

"You're not getting any hint."

Qubine shakes his head. This is going to bother him for a long time, but it's better than trying to guess blindly and making an idiot of himself.

"Sleep on it. I'll wake you up when we're at the stopover."

With a sigh, Qubine gets up again. Soon they will be landing for a day to swap batteries and top up on oxygen, water and other supplies. Then after that, it'll be a very short trip via Siebenbur to Undelwalt. It might be just as well that he can be distracted by David's secret relationship and not think too hard about Undelwalt right now. Even thinking about David being hit on by the old captain was a better option.

Because, god, Qubine never knew he can dread but also look forward to something so much at the same time.

"Oh?"

The contemplative sound David has just made catches Qubine's attention. It looks like David is checking his phone. "Hmm?"

"Rush sent me a lot of messages while I was asleep."

"Has something happened?"

"I'm about to find out."


	33. Chapter 33

Rush gives tonight's soup a quick taste test.

Rush's mother has done a good job with Rhagoh's training. Although he's a long way from becoming a sous chef, he has come on leaps and bounds in the months since Rush went away. He still has a soft voice which is not ideal for working in a busy, noisy kitchen, but his knife skills are good, his prep work is efficient and his soups, well damn. Rush is keeping a close eye on how Rhagoh makes his soups.

The Tablet is doing fine, too. Irina says workload was a problem the first few weeks after Rush was gone, but it's all balanced out and under control now. It doesn't mean Rush gets to avoid helping out, of course, and he doesn't mind doing it anyway.

Tonight's weird though, he's done the prep for the desserts and has been expecting to do some cooking during evening service, but apparently one of the waiters has called in sick so he's waiting tables instead. He knows how to do it, but he isn't that great at it and his mother wants him to work on a big table booked in the new private room.

Oh well, it's just for tonight. He'll try not to mess up.

On a roll after making desserts, and with time to spare before service, he has baked three different kinds of sweet biscuits, the sort that will keep, and even taste better after a few weeks. He did say he would send David and Qubine some treats, after all, and his biscuits are amazing even if he says so himself.

He wonders how those two are doing. What's happened that Qubine needs to make such a long trip for? Has David had time to de-stress? Where the hell are they even going anyway?

"Please come in."

The restaurant is starting to fill up for second service. Rush has set the table — party of fifteen, no wonder Mum wants a dedicated waiter — and is patiently waiting in the room when Charlotte, the head waitress, opens the door and invites the customers inside.

"Oh hey, this is nice!" says the first customers who walks in, looking around.

Charlotte smiles and steps aside for the remainder of the group to come inside. "This is Rush, he will be serving you tonight."

Rush opens his mouth to greet the customers. "Welcome to The Tablet—"

He freezes

These guys are...

Oh.

Oh my god.

Ohmygodohmygod OH MY GOD.

 

**R:** DAVE. OMNISTRIKE IS HERE AT THE RESTAURANT  
**R:** AND I'M SERVING THEM  
**R:** DAVE ARE YOU HERE

**R:** It's the whole band and the manager and some crew from the gig. I'm trying not to stutter talking to them.  
**R:** HANNAH AND HINNAH ARE EVEN CUTER IN PERSON. And Young isn't as scary. Sneivan's sniffs everything. Milton has a strict alcohol policy everyone's only allowed 2 glasses.  
**R:** Only 2 glasses in public, otherwise Young and Ludope get wankered apparently. XD  
**R:** Zuido really loves food and he's asked me so many questions and now they know I used to work here full time.

**R:** THEY WANT ME TO STAY IN THE ROOM SO THAT THEY CAN TALK TO ME. I SWEAR I'M DREAMING.

**R:** They love the dessert I made OMG I can die now.   
**R:** I told them their gig was great and gave them some biscuits I looked like an moronic fanboy.  
**R:** (I baked them for you and Qubine, I'll bake you guys another batch sorry.)

**R:** Hannah just said "hey let's take a selfie together" and so we did fdhjsfhsklafhska

That is a very, very cute picture that Rush sent over. And it may be personal preferences speaking, but to David, Rush is far cuter than Hannah.

He switches over to the clock function on his phone. What time is it on Eulam City now? It's late, but not so late that it'd be anti-social to ring. David should give Rush a call to hear him gush in person, it'll be fun.

"Actually, don't go to bed yet. I'm calling Rush."

Pausing mid-step, Qubine tips his head. "And I should stay here for that?"

David passes his phone over for Qubine to read the messages. Within a few moments, Qubine is smirking and handing the phone back.

"Are you sure he'll be okay with me listening?"

Qubine asks that, but he's folding his arms on the back of his chair and leaning on it. He is totally staying for this.

So, let's put this call on speaker.

Wait. A call isn't good enough. They need to see this hyper and fannish Rush for themselves.

David props his phone up against the controls and links it up to the main screen, a hand fixing his hair. "We're doing a video call."

Qubine laughs softly. "You're mean."

"I'm a caring friend."

First ring, and the call gets picked up. "Dave?"

The screen is dark. "Move your phone, Rush."

"What?" There is a pause as Rush checks what's going on, looking confusedly at the screen and realising this is a video call. "Oh god. Give me a sec."

"Hope we haven't interrupted anything."

"Oh shut up. No." There is some shuffling, the screen waves about, then Rush reappears with messy hair, wearing a plain t-shirt. The background is a white wall, the rest of the room isn't visible.

"Hey guys. I hope this call is also free."

"It's free up to a limit, and it might get laggy depending on our luck," David tells him. "We're calling to express our deep disappointment that you gave our biscuits away."

Rush's cheeks take on a hint of pink right away. "They were so nice I'm so glad they're my favourite band!" he says, bobbing up and down a little as he bounces on his bed. "And I'll make you new ones — I found some funky animal cutters in the kitchen."

"They better be very funky." David laughs.

"That's what the packaging says: Funky Animal Cutters. You can build your own safari. I also got a cat paw one just for you Qubine."

"I'm so grateful." Qubine sounds like he is trying not to giggle. "Did you get a big tip from your band?"

"Just a bit above average. But I got a selfie!"

"David showed me. Her arm was around your shoulders."

"And they asked me what I thought about the gig, what to see and do here since they're staying for a while to do a shoot and stuff, and Young told me about when he was in the national guards when I said I'm training for the army..." The words slow, Rush's voice trailing off, his face getting redder. "Stop grinning at me like that."

Qubine is indeed grinning, or as close to grinning as he is ever going to get. That's probably more of a sight than Rush going crazy over his special evening.

"I'm just enjoying what you're saying," Qubine says, leaning heavier on the chair he's standing behind. "Your excitement is infectious."

"But... you look kind of evil."

Qubine pulls his head back a bit. "Evil? Surely not as evil as David-wearing-a-hat evil."

"May no hats ever touch my head again." David sighs.

Suddenly a ringing noise comes from Rush's side. Rush rolls his eyes and grumbles about people calling the restaurant at this time of day.

"I'm going to get that, can you guys wait? It'll be really quick."

"Of course."

It is indeed only a minute or so before Rush returns, but when he picks up his phone again, he looks shaken, as if he has either just won the lottery or been told that someone close to him has died.

David and Qubine exchange a look. "Is everything all right?"

Rush nods faintly. "Yeah. That was... Hannah."

"From Omnistrike? Did she leave something behind?"

"No, she said... she asked me if I'd be free tomorrow to show her around..."

Silence.

After blinking in confusion for a few times, Qubine is the first to say something. "That's a date, isn't it."

David is holding his breath. "Rush please tell me you said yes."

A fist pressed against his mouth, teeth gnawing on the knuckles, Rush nods. "Oh my god. Do you guys think so too?"

"It's definitely a date." Well, that's it, Rush is getting a girlfriend. Because there's no way Rush would say no to her, and it seems like Hannah has a good eye for men.

Now this is a good reason for David to not ask him out, rather than just "I'm quite sure he doesn't like me."

"Shit. What do I do?"

"I can't help you here; I know nothing about dating women. Over to you, Qubine."

Qubine is both bemused and amused. "How would I know anything about dating?"

"Guys! Help me!"

Okay, maybe they've teased Rush enough for now. "You need to decide on what you'll be wearing."

"Yes!" Rush springs up and brings the phone with him to a wardrobe, switching over to the back camera, "What should I wear?"

Qubine has pressed his forehead on the back of the seat, trying not to laugh in delight at the real life drama unfolding before his eyes, so it's up to David to do something. Rush's wardrobe is neat, but looking at clothes from the side isn't very helpful.

"I don't remember very well what kind of clothes you own." To be honest, Rush looks at least okay in most things, so as long as he's made an effort he should be fine. If Hannah wanted posh or someone with a particular style she wouldn't have called, knowing that Rush was a chef and is now in the army. "Do you have anything casual but classy?"

"What's that even supposed to mean?"

"Like what she wore in your photo."

"Um, maybe." Rush pushes hangers left and right, looking through his coats, then something catches David's eyes.

"That one."

"Which one?"

"The one you wore when we were on Torgal's ship, taking you home..."

"Oh. Er. Oh yeah, this one?" A hand pulls out the duffel coat Rush had bought while he was on Athlum.

"The whole outfit was nice. You can just wear that again... is it cold enough where you are right now?"

"I can take off the inside layer. Right, that's sorted then. Thanks Dave!"

David wonders if Rush is thinking about what happened back on the Brionac. Unlikely. His head must be filled with thoughts of Hannah right now, and that's a good thing.

"Now you need to worry about where to take her tomorrow."

After more panicking from one side and friendly ribbing from the other, Rush announces that he needs try to get some sleep, and hangs up.

David flips his phone to face down on the ledge of the controls, next to his tea. "He better send us news of any major development."

"He most likely will. It seems like this is too much excitement for him to contain," says Qubine. "By the way, did something happen on Torgal's ship?"

Oh god, of course Qubine would notice.

David shakes his head. "Nothing." Well, he nearly kissed Rush, but he didn't in the end, so the reply isn't a lie. "Now go to bed, I need some private time with Kellendros."

It takes a while for him to notice that Qubine is lingering; he's got himself some water and picked up his computer, but seems to have little desire to leave.

Perhaps he's finally decided to talk about the purpose of this trip?

After checking the controls — Qubine is the type to change a setting just to see if it'd be discovered — David gives his friend a curious glance. "What is it?"

"Are you all right?"

That's not a question David expected. "Of course. Why?"

"Oh, it's nothing. I'm off to bed, goodnight."

"Goodnight."

What's that all about?

It's not until the Kellendros has reached the supply stop and David is stepping off the ship with Qubine, that he suddenly remembers he has told Qubine, back on Elysion during Congress, that he does have some feelings for Rush. That was the reason his friend was concerned.

David can only hope Qubine won't keep asking. How he feels about it isn't going to change anything, and discussion only makes it more awkward.

Stupid. Yes he has thought that he needs to change, to open up more. But to admit that he does like Rush a little? That was a bad decision. He dreads to think what else he might have revealed that night after being totally intoxicated.

Damn. That's it. He's never getting drunk again.

 

It turns out David doesn't need to worry too much, at least not about Qubine feeling sorry for him because Rush is going on a date.

They have stayed at the supply station for a few hours, taking off as soon as the ship is ready to fly again. And Qubine hasn't really spoken much since. After a while, David decides to break the silence.

"What did you do at the station?"

No response. Then a few seconds later, Qubine looks over. "I'm sorry?"

"I was wondering what you did at the station."

"I just walked around. Oh, and I had a rather nice slice of cake with a cup of coffee. How about you?"

"I went to the gym, then went to one of the restaurants."

"The gym?"

"Sitting around too much makes me feel rigid. I've been working out in my room, but I needed a machine to run on."

"Is that a xiphosian thing or is it just you?"

"Just me, probably."

Qubine smiles briefly, and silence resumes. With the Third Path of Siebenbur just ahead of them, they're only a day away from Undelwalt now, so Qubine must be stressed. As far as David knows, Qubine has never set foot there again in all the years since he left the planet, because the Umbermarici has never had a reason to land there in recent years.

There is only a short queue to use the wormhole when they arrive at the entrance gateway. David takes a moment to send a message to the Valeria Heart to say he will be unreachable for a few hours, and checks his other messages. Nothing from Rush yet. It's been less than a full day since their video call though, maybe he'll hear from Rush later.

He glances over to see Qubine also checking his phone. It seems like his sister has sent over new cat photos. "How is Letitia?"

"Same as always."

David clicks to his next new message thread. It's from the father he has recently reunited with. "Gideon's found a job."

"Oh?"

"He..." David squints at the message in disbelief. "Apparently he went to someone's house to fix their servbot, and came out with a job as their art assistant." He looks up from the screen. "They're a comic artist."

It takes Qubine a moment to process this. "That is very strange. And yet I am not very surprised, seeing as he's your father," he says, and explains when David gives him a look, "you are also good at talking your way into and out of things. I guess you picked it up from him?"

Maybe. Chances are David had learned it from Qubine, actually, or by himself.

It's their turn to enter Siebenbur. At the turnpike's signal, David pays the fee, confirms that both pilot and co-pilot are ready, and the Kellendros receives the all-clear to go ahead.

The Third Path is an easy flight compared with some of the others. In truth Qubine doesn't even need to do anything, the fact that he is staying in the co-pilot seat is only to satisfy the law. Going to Undelwalt this way cuts down the travel time by around two weeks, but the Path is not going to remain open for too much longer; they will have to use a different route on the way back.

David suddenly realises he doesn't know how long they'll stay on Undelwalt for, and he doesn't want to ask now, with Qubine already so strung up. If it looks like he'll need to leave first so that he doesn't miss the Valeria Heart's next flight, then he'll say something. But until then he'll keep quiet.

"Sorry about that," says Qubine all of a sudden, his gaze fixed on the path before them, walls of remnant energy swirling like petrol in water.

"What about?"

"Your skills and abilities are your own. Your father has nothing to do with them."

Oh, he is still thinking about that? "I'm not offended."

The words don't seem to have any effect. "I'm sorry anyway."

"It really doesn't matter."

"But... why does your father have your number?"

"I gave it to him. We talked when I flew him back on the Heart... things are all right between us."

"That must be a relief. I'm glad for you," says Qubine. "But I'm not surprised, if I'm to be honest."

"Is that so?"

"You're the most forgiving person I've ever met. I don't mean that you're a pushover, just that you're generous with your forgiveness."

Where has that observation come from? "Um, thank you?"

"So you will stay in contact with him?"

"Yes. But right now it feels awkward. I feel like I'm betraying my own family for talking to him."

"I see."

God, Qubine looks so out of sorts. The sooner they reach Undelwalt and get whatever it is over and done with, the better.

"David, do you mind if I asked..." he says, then cringes at his own phrasing. "I'm just curious... what do you expect from Gideon, if anything at all?"

That's not a question David has a good answer for. But if it keeps Qubine's mind off his personal things, he'll go with it. "I don't know. I'm not a child anymore, I don't _need_ him."

"You've certainly gone far without help or guidance from your family."

"But it doesn't mean I don't want him in my life." David gives Qubine a sidelong glance. "I guess he can be less like a father, and more like a friend."

"Is that possible?"

"Time will tell."

The conversation tails off, and David scrambles for something else to talk about. Work. Cats. The book he's been reading. But Qubine isn't really engaging with anything except for whatever it is that's plaguing his mind.

At the end of the jump, coming out of the other end of Siebenbur, Undelwalt is immediately in sight. She is a beautiful planet, coloured like newly-waxed wood and with a prominent ring system surrounding her.

Qubine abruptly leaves his seat.

By the time he returns, David has confirmed their arrival with traffic control and obtained a timeslot for landing. He watches his friend go to get himself something to drink. Qubine looks like he's about to faint.

Shit.

David locks the ship to Undelwalt's guiding system and goes over to Qubine. "How are you feeling?"

Qubine steals a look at David before focussing on his glass of water again. "Just felt a little sick."

Thought so. "Where do you need to go after we land at Gefyri? Should I go with you?"

"The suburbs. My police contact will pick me up at the spaceport."

"I suppose that means I can't accompany you."

"No. But thank you for offering." Qubine smiles a little.

Traffic control is signalling that they can prepare to land. They return to their seats and let the ship be brought into the atmosphere.

They break through over a half barren area that looks to be under major development. Gradually losing speed and altitude, the ship sweeps towards the city, following what appears to be a dry riverbed. David is not familiar with the local geography, but he knows that the capital city of Gefyri is situated on the coast, yet straddles parts of a desert. Presumably they entered the atmosphere at a location somewhere between the two.

"It's gone."

"Sorry?" Although they've slowed right down, by the time David tries to look at what Qubine is referring to, they've already flown past it.

"Where I used to live has been razed to the ground." Qubine lets out a tight laugh. "It's good to see."

Wordless, David puts a hand on Qubine's shoulder and squeezes it.

"Gosh," Qubine gasps when Gefyri comes into view, with skyscrapers that rival the most developed of planets, all lit up. "I know that there have been a lot of changes in the past decade, and I've seen footage, but it's still so strange to see it for myself."

David nods. This is his first time on Undelwalt, actually, although he has been on two of her moons. But he knows that the cities of this planet have seen rapid development thanks to the discovery on how to harness energy from nuclear waste, which she used to accept from other planets. Changing from waste treatment to energy export has transformed Undelwalt's fortunes.

The planet and the country are no longer what Qubine once knew. Hopefully this will make it easier for him. He no longer looks as pale as he was earlier, at least.

"I'm not afraid of this place, David," says Qubine suddenly, as if he has read David's mind.

It's hard to believe those words when just minutes ago Qubine was sick from the stress.

And because of that, it's hard to watch Qubine go by himself. Just before they went their separate ways at the arrivals hall, he said he expects to stay here for less than a week, that he would keep in touch, and should be reachable by phone at all times. Perhaps that should make David feel better, but it really doesn't.

David finds the phone number for Letitia's cat cafe and leaves a message there so that she has his phone number. It just seems like the right thing to do.

Undelwalt takes some time to get used to. Being an outer planet, there is little daylight to speak of, and the population is accustomed to low light levels. Outdoor lighting is all right, but indoors is often dim, and it is easy to spot a tourist because they would carry a torch or use the light function on their phones often. Gravity is also different, being slightly stronger here than it is on Athlum, but David get used to that quickly enough, like he has to every time he travels somewhere.

He checks into a hotel, tries the hot springs heated from the geothermal power that keeps Undelwalt from becoming a frozen planet, does a bit of sightseeing, admires the rings that draw huge arches across the sky. Qubine sends a message on the first day to say that he is fine, and then doesn't bother to do it again, so David messages him daily instead to check on him. Apparently everything is always fine.

Letitia gets in touch at one point, thanking David profusely for what he's doing, and asks if David could bring some snacks back with him.

And then Rush finally resurfaces, messaging both David and Qubine to tell them that he's kissed Hannah the first time they went out together.

**D:** Kids these days. I only kiss on the second date.

**R:** Really?

**D:** I'm xiphosian, not easy.

**R:** Hey did you just imply I'm easy?

**D:** No, just too used to people thinking xiphosians are always easy, sorry. But yes, second date for me, usually.

**R:** First date for me, sometimes. If I know I really want a second date.

**Q:** Fascinating. Does this mean David is a prude?

**D:** I don't know if I should be proud of that or not...  
**D:** I assume you've had other dates since then. Are you two official now?

**R:** As official as a non-public relationship can be official.................  >_>"

**D:** I got you that gig ticket. You shall name your first born after me.

David doesn't know what else he can say. But at least Qubine isn't here to give him strange looks.

Damn it, he should have asked Rush out.

No, of course he shouldn't have. Rush would have turned him down.

By the time Qubine tells David they could leave Undelwalt, David is very much ready to go. Five days are not enough to enjoy what this city has to offer, he has only taken in some sights and looked at a few museums and galleries, but he simply isn't in the mood. Instead of thinking about Rush, about Gideon, about work, he'd rather be fussing over Qubine. Whatever it is that Qubine has been doing, there seems to have been no major crisis so maybe David will finally learn what has been going on.

He returns to the Kellendros, which has been fully restocked and loaded with snacks for Letitia, and waits for Qubine.

He's reading the day's news when he hears the airlock opening. Qubine is right on time, as usual.

But then he frowns, and stands.

Qubine has someone with him. Someone a little taller than he is, wearing dark jeans and a leather jacket with a hoodie under it. The hood shadows his face, but David can see long, curly hair that is has been dyed dark purple. Overall, a young man who is dressed like quite a lot of other young men.

Qubine says something in Undelwaltian. David catches his name in the sentence, so it's probably an introduction. The young man pushes back his hood and nods in greeting.

David's jaw drops.

That face—

"David. T-this..." Qubine stutters. He swallows hard and tries again. "This is my son."


	34. Chapter 34

Qubine's son.

_Qubine has a son._

A million thoughts burst into David's head at once, and he shuts them all down. Not right now, not in front of them.

He goes into autopilot.

"Three of us then? Qubine, can you show him around? I need to go and get a few bits and pieces," says David, picking up his phone, ID and wallet. "I'll push back the takeoff time by a couple of hours."

Qubine frowns. "Where are you going?"

"We need more towels and bedding, food and drinks, things like that." David goes up to the pair. "Can you ask him..." he pauses, then looks to the young man. "Actually, do you speak Standard?"

"Yes," says the young man, who seems understandably nervous. David smiles at him.

"Is there anything you don't eat?"

"No. Um, thank you. Sorry for being a hassle."

"It's no hassle; I love shopping," David tells him. "Make yourselves comfortable, I'll be back soon."

A while later, David has brought back more supplies and a couple of workmen have installed a bed in the common area just behind the cockpit. The service centre for Kellendros's make is just next to the spaceport like many others, so getting the right bit of additional furniture is not difficult.

"David, I'm so sorry. I—"

"The ship's licensed to carry up to four. It doesn't matter."

"I haven't considered any of these details." Qubine looks towards the room David has vacated for the new passenger. "I didn't know if he would come with me or not, so I didn't want to say anything beforehand. Then I've been so preoccupied with the—"

"It's fine."

"I'll take this bed. You sleep in the other room."

"No. This is my ship, you two are my guests. Besides, I want the new bed."

The first day of the journey back is quiet, but not to the point of awkward. Qubine's son is polite, doesn't talk very much, and after dinner says he'll stay in his room with his laptop.

"Hey."

"Yes?"

"I haven't found out your name yet."

The young man hesitates. "People call me Ricky."

 _People call me._ Not his real name, then.

After the young man has gone, Qubine pinches the bridge of his nose. "He was named after me."

Ah, so he ditched that name like Qubine got rid of his. "How old is he?"

"17. Almost 18." Qubine closes his eyes. "I didn't realise he existed. Her mother was pregnant with him when I fled."

"But... your biological son. There's no doubt about it since he looks like a younger version of you, but..."

"I know. My case handler needed to check mine and Lettie's DNA again to believe it." A shuddering breath. "I have less than one in 50,000 chance of having my own children, and yet my parents still got what they wanted."

That is a terrible way to think. "Not true. They're locked up in Koenigsdorf and your son's here with you," David points out.

"I... well." Qubine doesn't contest the point made. "But they managed to keep his existence a secret. None of the followers caught ever mentioned him."

It is frightening to think how dedicated, or brainwashed, the members of the cult are.

"Does this means he knows where he comes from?"

"He grew up in the cult until he was about 10, then there was the trial... Yes. The short answer is yes, he knows the whole story."

That's not an easy thing for anyone to deal with. "Where's his mother now?"

"Dead." Qubine covers his face with his hands. "I have a son, David. What do I do?"

God, David had never seen Qubine so confused in all these years. He doesn't know if Qubine ever wanted children — for himself, not because his father wanted to breed a particular bloodline for his twisted purposes — but David would guess Qubine has never even considered it. It simply wasn't a real option. It isn't a point that is often brought up, but Qubine is Gefyrian-dominant mixed race, and hybrid mitras are all considered infertile.

But whether Qubine actively wanted a son or not, of course he would not have left Ricky there. If all Ricky wanted was to meet his father, that's one thing. But Qubine would definitely have offered to bring Ricky with him to Celapaleis.

"Did he agree to come with you, of his own free will?" he asks, and Qubine nods. "Put a roof over his head and give him some space, things will work out, somehow. Ghor figured it out when he rescued you, I'm sure you will too."

"Is that all I need to do? After I left him behind in that cult... how do I even make it up to him?"

David understands where that thought comes from, but he really wishes Qubine wouldn't think like that. "Do you want me to ask him?"

Qubine lowers his hands, his eyes staring ahead emptily. "I should do that myself once I've worked up the courage... it might take some time."

Qubine needs a hug, but not from David. He is sure, though, Letitia is ready to give her brother the biggest, warmest squeeze as soon as they land.

This reminds David of another important point. "Is this all above board, by the way?" He turns to look at Qubine. "Will he be able to enter Celapaleis unchallenged?"

"Yes, it's been sorted out. It's partly why it took us five days on Undelwalt," says Qubine, who pauses, then frowns lightly. "What if I said no?"

"Then I'd work out another route, possibly call in some favours from a few harbourmasters. It'd be doable."

Well, it'd be rather difficult. David occasionally helps some people procure things that would otherwise be quite difficult to buy from another planet, and do other small favours here and there. That's not really enough for him to ask "can you turn a blind eye as I sneak this person across the border illegally". But he still would have found a way, somehow.

"We might have had to stop on a moon first. As I recall, Eulam's security is suitably slack, and last time I returned there they just waved me through out of guilt. Do you think your son and Rush could be friends?"

"Good grief, David."

David's response to that is a smirk. He leaves the controls for a moment to make themselves some tea. Then all of a sudden a realisation comes to him.

"So that's why you asked me how I was getting on with Gideon."

Qubine looks a little like a deer caught in headlights. "I— I'm sorry. I've been a nervous wreck all this trip I... I know I've been an awful friend, but I really do care."

David walks over and put a mug of tea in Qubine's hands. "I know. Be quiet and drink this."

He saw how nervous Qubine was. When they landed a few days ago, he thought Qubine was sick because he didn't want to set foot on Undelwalt again. But thinking about it now, it must have been because he was worried about how he would be received by the son he'd unknowingly left behind.

Qubine clasps at the mug, staring at its steaming contents. "David."

"Hmm?"

"Thank you for everything."

"Shut up and drink your tea."

 

"This is where we are at the moment, moving in this direction. We need to keep a certain distance from Berechevaltelle because civilisation there isn't developed enough for space contact or travel. Then we go this way, slingshot around Nagapur to get to Fornstrand."

"A slingshot is when you use the... gravitational pull to help change direction, isn't it?"

"It'll also save on fuel and help us go faster."

"I've read about it in a novel before. Then at Fornstrand..."

"We'll stay a couple of days to wait for Siebenbur's Second Path to open, which we'll use to warp to Celapaleis."

"Okay. Thank you."

David smiles. Ricky — he really doesn't look like a Ricky, David thinks — seems quite smart and he's interested in what's going on around him. A few days into the flight and he looks more comfortable already, often sitting in the main living area with his computer rather than hide in the bedroom. Occasionally he offers to make drinks or do some cleaning too.

"How long will it take?"

"Including the stop, about another six days. I mean six days by Elysion Calendar, we always use that as the unit of measurement when travelling."

"That's so much faster than I thought."

"It took us longer on the way out. Sometimes it just depends on if you can warp, and which warp path you can use at the time."

"I know Qubine is on shore leave, but don't you have work?"

"I'm on holiday as well. Before you say anything, I don't get enough chances to fly this ship and I love flying him, so I'm having a wonderful time."

"It's true." A third voice cuts in. Qubine appears, his hair damp and a towel across his shoulders. "David has an unhealthy relationship with this ship."

"He loves me back. Our relationship is very healthy."

Qubine just rolls his eyes, and Ricky cracks up.

Ricky is, like his father, a beautiful man, and it's easy to say that he looks just like Qubine, but when he laughs he definitely doesn't look like Qubine at all, his voice deeper, his mannerisms more casual.

Compared with Qubine, who often comes across as androgynous, Ricky feels more typically masculine. His shoulders are broader, his jaw ever so slightly more square. They do share the same eye shape, but Ricky's eyes are black, or maybe a very dark brown, instead of Qubine's powder blue. In fact, the more David sees the two of them together, the less they look alike to him.

But whether they look alike or not, this young man is Qubine's son. That's going to take a lot of getting used to.

David finds himself wondering what Ricky's mother looked like, but in all honesty he really doesn't want to know. He doesn't want to know anything about her at all, he doesn't want her to become "human" to him.

"I'm going to bed. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"But what _would_ you do?"

Qubine responds with a silent and exaggerated shake of his head, then retreats to his room, leaving David flying the ship and Ricky sitting on the floor in the open area with his laptop.

After a few moments, Ricky looks up. "Do you... mind if I stay here for a bit?"

The young man is nearly fluent in Standard, and speaks it with a rather cute accent. Since his brief stay on Undelwalt — or maybe due to his son's influence — Qubine has started speaking with that accent as well. David wonders if Qubine is aware of it.

"Of course not. Keep me company." David points at the co-pilot seat. "You can sit here if you like, we'll be able to see something pretty in a few minutes."

Ricky obliges. He studies the controls, but doesn't need to be told to keep his hands off them.

"I'm guessing you're Qubine's colleague?"

"He hasn't told you?"

"He just said you're his—" Ricky pulls a face, biting his lip. "I can't remember what the word is in Standard. It's a saying we have on Undelwalt, it means a very close friend, more or less."

"Aww." That makes David feel a bit warm and fuzzy. "He used to be my commander. You know what his job is, yes?" he asks, and Ricky nods. "I was on his ship for years and years. Now I'm on another ship, but still the same army, so we're still colleagues."

"So you've been through a lot together."

"'A lot' would be an understatement."

The conversation drifts off. There are clearly words on the edge of Ricky's lips, but he's either reconsidering or trying to find the right time to say them. For someone with his background, in his current situation, Ricky is displaying more calm, and more tact, than David would have thought possible. He casts his mind back to just a few weeks ago, on Ghor station, how he reacted to meeting his own father. He really could learn from this young man.

"Funny thing."

"Yes?"

"I recently reunited with my father too," David tells Ricky. "He'd disappeared for 13, 14 years."

Ricky sits up. "Really? Were you looking for him? Did he find you?"

"No, we just ran into each other. I... freaked out. It took external forces to bring us together again to sit down and talk. But I'm glad we did; he's a good man."

"What is he like?"

That's a question David can use to help Ricky get the answers he actually wants.

"Are you asking about my dad, or yours?"

Ricky blinks, rakes a hand through his long fringe, then decides to accept the offer. "Could you please tell me about Qubine?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything you can tell me."

"Hmm. Well." Where to start? Perhaps with the basics. "He dresses like he puts clothes on in the dark. I don't think he realises it but he likes rich purple and dark green since he tends to pick that when there's a choice of colours. He usually prefers hot drinks to cold, and likes chocolate better than coffee. And he isn't much of a drinker. Sometimes he eats like he's pregnant with twins. He's single at the moment. He loves cats, you'll be seeing a lot of them."

The last few words make Ricky chuckle. "I have been warned. So he is single?"

"It doesn't look like you'll be gaining a step-parent any time soon. You do have an aunt though."

"I've seen pictures. She seems nice."

"I've only met her once, but she is nice, yes."

"Alright. What do you think about him?"

"I'm going to be very biased," David smirks.

"Well, I am asking about what you think, so I don't expect you to be..." There is a pause as Ricky searches for the word he wants to use. He has done this quite a few times in the past few days, trying to switch between languages, "impartial."

"Okay." So many things David can say about Qubine. "He's sneaky, stubborn, selfish. And he is exploitative. He tells you where to go, what to do, and doesn't care about how you feel," he says, stealing a look at Ricky, who is starting to look alarmed. "I'm joking. Well, not entirely joking... but he only gets like that when it's something related to Celapaleis or the army. If it's something that benefits them then he'd do anything."

"Is he really that... extreme?"

"He's just very grateful to the people who saved him and his sister. It does make him a bit blind or quite mean, but it's never going to change so I've learned to accept it."

"Ah... I see..."

"That aside, as a friend and as a commander, there isn't a bad thing I can say about him... I guess he does have no patience for inefficiency and people who just won't listen. He says life is too short to tolerate those who drag others down. I've seen him give people just one chance before cutting them loose."

Ricky frowns a little. "That's sounds brutal."

It is. David has more patience than Qubine, but he does recognise that, at least when considering soldiers on active duty, sometimes even a single chance is generous — you can't always afford even that when lives are on the line. But Qubine's dislike for people like that does extend beyond the workplace, so David isn't going to try to defend him.

But he's said enough of the negative points. It's time to state the positives.

"People tend to think he's unapproachable, but that's only until they've actually talked to him," David continues. "Your dad is the quiet indoorsy type, but he's actually quite fun because he's very good at banter. He's also generous, he's happy to listen and always ready to help, and he works hard, but he makes it look like he's just cruising along because he doesn't complain. But he does have a dry sense of humour that will make you want to punch him and hug him at the same time."

"Hahaha..."

Come to think of it, has David ever done either? No, at least not when he was sober. David wonders if he's tried when he was drunk. Unlikely. How weird that he's never given Qubine a hug. But Qubine just never looks like he wants one from him.

"This will sound over the top, but I admire Qubine a lot. He is an incredible person. Even if..." David breathes out heavily, "even if I didn't know about the things he'd overcome, I would still feel the same way."

Ricky shifts in discomfort. "How... how many people know about it, David?"

David could hazard a guess: apart from the crew of the ship who picked up Qubine and Letitia, and various officials who handled the case, he reckons only he and the old captain Kitterick know about Qubine's previous life. But why guess when Ricky is well within his rights to ask his father about that himself?

"To be honest I'm not certain. You should check with him."

"Yes, I should..."

"But I do know for sure," it's probably not his place to say this, but David really wants to make sure Ricky knows, "that he would not have left Undelwalt without you had he known you existed."

Ricky falls silent.

"He would have waited for you to be born, then he would have looked for a way to steal you, however long that would have taken."

"Do you really think so?" Ricky whispers.

"At the trial, the defence attacked Qubine's credibility as a witness, claiming that he must've wanted to be there because he had chances to run away but didn't," says David, who keeps his voice flat, because he feels like he would start screaming if he didn't. The defence was of course only doing their job, but how dare they. _How dare they._ "He could have got away sooner, but they had your aunt and he wouldn't leave her behind — had he left, they would have put her in his place. He spent years working out how to free her. He would've done the same for you."

Putting his feet on the seat, Ricky draws his knees towards his chest, resting his forehead on them, shrinking into a ball. "I don't think I can be compared with my aunt. He went through all that because the cult wanted me. I'm the cause and result of his suffering."

Shit. That is an undeniable truth. "Ricky..."

"When I finally went to the police... I was just curious about him, I wanted to find out if he was okay. I really just wanted to know that he is okay, hopefully living a good life," Ricky breathes. "I didn't realise the authorities would try to put us in touch, or that he would want to see me at all, and even take me in. I must remind him of the horrible things that'd happened..."

What a sweet boy. Yes, David wonders about that too. How does Qubine even deal with it?

"And while you're worried about that, he's worrying about how he can make it up to you for not being there all these years." Like father like son, perhaps. Or, David hates to think this, but maybe Ricky's mother was not so purely evil. After all, she'd brought up a son who is caring and sensitive. "I think you two are going to get along just fine."

Ricky turns his head, then sweeps away the fringe that's fallen across his face so that he can look at David. "I hope he'll like me."

Reaching over, David pats Ricky on the shoulder.

"Don't be silly. He already loves you."

The corners of Ricky's mouth curl. It's not quite a smile, just an acknowledgement that he's heard the words. No use trying to convince him right away — these things take time. He lifts his face, sweeps the hair away from his eyes once again — god, he really has a lot of hair — and stares ahead of them.

David is debating whether to leave Ricky to his thoughts or start a new conversation when Ricky suddenly says, "'tastebuds'."

"Pardon?"

"I just remembered. The word Qubine used to describe you translates to 'tastebuds'."

"I'm afraid you've completely lost me here..."

"It's an Undelwaltian saying. Think about it. Without tastebuds, eating is just something you do in order to stay alive. Like, all purpose and function, but no joy. Being someone's tastebuds means you bring flavour to their life."

Him? Qubine would talk about him like that? David doesn't even know how to react. Qubine introduced him to his son as someone so important...

"You people... have strange ways of saying things."

"We do." Ricky really is smiling now, and uncurling himself a bit more. "He told me a lot about himself when we were on Undelwalt, so I found out that everything is going okay for him. But when we came on this ship and introduced you, I knew for sure that his life now is good."

"Stop it, I'm getting embarrassed."

"Thank you for being his tastebuds, David."


	35. Chapter 35

There hasn't been any news from Rush for a while, which should be seen as a blessing, though David still can't help but feel a little bit put out. He hopes he himself isn't the sort who forgets about friends after getting into a new relationship; he'd hate to do this to other people.

At least Jakob still cares. When Kellendros flew past Nagapur and used her for a gravity assist manoeuvre, David sent Jakob a message saying he was "literally swinging by", and Jakob replied "I didn't realise that you're a swinger", then they got chatting the way David does with many of his friends — just mostly in the background, with replies every few hours or every few days. Rush is an exception whom David talks to a lot, sometimes keeping the phone in his hand as he waits for a reply.

But, evidently, there is no point in waiting around for Rush to talk now...

His phone vibrates once. David tries not to get his hopes up as he checks it.

**S:** Alrighty, how about after dinner? Let's go to a bar! And I know this really cute pancake place that opens all hours!

**D:** Sounds good. Time and place?

Sheryl sends the information over.

**S:** You can bring your friends if you like! ^.^

David has a distinct feeling that Qubine and his son are not ready to meet strangers just yet.

**D:** I'll ask them, but I suspect jet lag will take over.

"David, what would you like?"

Quickly scanning the food menu again, David picks the day's special. "The armorshell burger set and... grape juice."

"Hraesvelg on rice, and a sage tea." Qubine takes out his phone and gives it to his son. "Could you order for us?"

"Hmm, okay."

Ricky leaves the table. They are at a pub which is sat atop one of Fornstrand's jagged cliffs along the coast. The place is old-fashioned so customers have to place their orders at the bar, which Ricky is quite happy to do for them. It is, of course, also a show of trust for Qubine to hand his phone over for Ricky to pay with.

It's interesting to watch how Ricky interacts with other people. In front of Qubine and David he is still somewhat reserved, but he has no problem at all talking to the woman behind the bar, casually chatting as he makes the order, and he seems no different from other mitras of his age except that he is terribly good looking.

"How are you feeling so far?" David asks Qubine.

"I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"That's unlike you."

"Is it?" Qubine folds his arms on the table. "Lettie is arranging the room for him. The paperwork for his citizenship is ready, he just needs to decide on his name. And he... I expected many problems. I was being realistic"

Ricky has turned around and is point out their table for the waitress. David holds up eight fingers to let him know what their table number is.

"He is very well-adjusted, as far as I can see."

"He told me he moved house quite a lot so he's had many different jobs. Maybe leaving the cult early and the variety of life experience helped..."

"Well then, it sounds like he's resourceful and can make his own way. At least you don't need to worry about him in that sense."

"Some of his friends came to help him pack and say goodbye. They seemed like a decent group too. He's had a health check and it came back all-clear. He said he left the cult before they did anything to him, and he even managed to get a bit of education."

"So his life hasn't been extremely terrible, you shouldn't worry too much about him having suffered badly."

"And that is why I said I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Everything is going well and he doesn't seem to resent me. Surely this can't last?"

This really isn't like Qubine at all, but he wouldn't care about if he was behaving normally or not. David is simply glad that it is going this well and hopes it'll continue and become the norm.

"Maybe there is no other shoe. Some people are just that good and unspoiled like... fresh snow."

"Ah, like Rush."

Qubine isn't wrong, but David hasn't expected to be reminded of Rush all of a sudden. And although he is certain he hasn't shown any particular reaction, Qubine's gaze snaps from Ricky to David, with an expression best described as "oops".

"Are you all right, David?"

"Perfectly fine. Why?" asks David, and he receives a look. "If I liked him enough I would have risked it and asked him out a long time ago."

He still probably wouldn't have.

Maybe Qubine was going to press the matter a little more, but Ricky has returned to the table, saving David from a discussion he really isn't keen on.

"The bar lady asked if you wanted regular or large portion of rice, I said large."

"Regular would have been enough, but that's all right."

"I've been told that sometimes you eat like you're pregnant with twins, so," says Ricky with a nonchalant shrug and a smile he can't quite suppress.

Now Qubine is narrowing his eyes at David, who is unapologetic.

"I'm not wrong," he says.

"Well... no. But I wonder what outlandish lies you might have told about me."

"No lies at all. I just mostly talked about what a selfish git you are."

"Thank you for painting such a great image of me in front of my family."

"You're welcome," replies David, noting Ricky's reaction to Qubine's wording, the way his gaze softens and turns fond. This is so cute to see. Ricky has said that all he wanted at the start was to see that his father's life turned out okay, but now that they've met, now that he is starting to know Qubine as a person, it's clear that he wants to be Qubine's son. He wants them to be family.

This is so poignant David thinks his heart hurts. In a good way.

The woman from the bar comes over with their drinks, and leaves something for Ricky.

"Oh! Thank you so much."

"No worries."

It's a hair band. Ricky takes it and starts gathering his hair together. "I left mine on the ship. I asked her where I could go buy some."

They watch Ricky tie his long, dyed mane back.

"Have you always had long hair?" David is curious.

"It took years to grow but, yes?"

"I had long hair too, once."

Qubine's eyebrows lift. "You did. I almost forgot."

"Really?" Ricky asks. "Are there photos?"

"It was a long time ago. I wasn't much older than you are right now." David gets his phone out. He wouldn't have the pictures saved here, but it should still be backed up online and since he remembers exactly when it was, finding the right photos are easy.

He shows Ricky a picture of himself and four other soldiers standing together laughing and eating cake from metal plates. They were all dressed in sand-coloured combat uniform, and David was sporting blond hair that covered his ears at the sides, and well past his shoulders at the back, long enough to be tied in a low ponytail.

Ricky gapes at the screen, and Qubine leans over to take a look too. "Oh my god! When was this?"

"I just turned 19, and in theatre in Luhang. My family sent over a fruit cake amongst other things."

"That's a great picture. Your hair really was long."

"It just wasn't a situation where I could get a decent haircut; it was either leave it or get a buzzcut." David lets Ricky take the phone. "I trimmed my own fringe. Many of the local men had long hair anyway, so it helped me blend in."

"How long were you there for?"

"A little under a year."

Ricky's jaw drops in disbelief. "And your hair grew that much?"

"Xiphosian advantage." Or disadvantage, depending on one's viewpoint. "It'd only take me maybe two years to get to your length."

Qubine shakes his head. "You are made entirely of protein."

There are jokes David could make about that, but maybe not in front of Qubine's son.

"But I only need to shave once a week or so."

"I'm so jealous." Ricky passes the phone to his father. "It suits you. You looked... princely, somehow."

"Like a marquis" is probably what Rush would have said in this situation, but no one else knows about that joke.

"Thank you. Maybe I'll try growing it out again someday."

 

_He was the last person in the brigade group to leave Camp Ramparts in Luhang, the last person to board the landing ship, and the last person to disembark back on the Umbermarici. His field backpack slung over a shoulder, he looked down at his feet. Ah, he'd walked through the scanners but straight past the scrubbing station, and now the scrubbing station itself was being scrubbed. He decided to pull off those mucky boots before leaving the hangar space. His socks were fresh-ish, good enough for the floors, he just didn't want to leave mud everywhere._

_It was good to be back. The camp wasn't terrible, but it was basic. And although ten months sounded like a short time, it felt like years when it was spent on foreign soil fighting insurgents who used the latest technology combined with guerilla tactics. But he had learned so much. And he thought he'd done a fairly good job—_

_Holding his boots by their laces in one hand and the strap of his backpack in the other, David stopped in his tracks._

_"What in the world..."_

_The corridor, which was wide enough for two lanes of road traffic, was choked full of people. In front of them all stood Torgal, still David's roommate and now a combat specialist, and Captain Kitterick._

_The captain started clapping. It rapidly became a huge applause, people were shouting David's name, whooping, making a deafening racket like fans watching their favourite sports team enter the pitch. David looked around him, flabbergasted by the reception, barely noticing Torgal taking his things for him._

_Then the captain extended his hand._

_"For bringing everyone back and a mission well executed — thank you."_

_Right, there was that. David had led a brigade group, set up camp, fulfilled a highly complex mission, and brought back as many people as were sent with him. Zero loss._

_David could cry._

_"Maybe I should have kept my boots on." David flexed and curled his toes, embarrassed, then shook hands with the captain. "Thank you sir." He chuckled when the captain took a curious glance at the boots Torgal was now holding. "I missed the scrubbing station. Didn't want to tread mud everywhere."_

_"I can't believe you still have the presence of mind to think about that, Brigadier General David." Captain Kitterick laughed and clapped David on the shoulder. "At least you didn't miss the enemy!"_

_Brigadier General? Had he been promoted, just like that?_

_After that, David received a firm hug from Torgal for the first time ever._

_"So this is why sovanis have so many arms. It's so that you can carry things and hug people at the same time."_

_His face buried in Torgal's chest, David could hear Torgal snorting softly._

_People continued to cheer. It was at that moment that David truly realised the magnitude of this particular achievement. The task had felt so difficult, he had always put it down to his own lack of experience, but that wasn't actually the case. And he hadn't only done a good job, he had done it splendidly._

_"David."_

_He pulled back, and saw the captain holding an earpiece at him. With a confused frown, he put it on._

_"Yes?"_

_Through the earpiece came Qubine's voice. "I see that you're back — well I can hear it too. Why are you always causing a ruckus?"_

_David could only laugh. "Sorry. Where are you, I'll come and apologise personally."_

_"Someone needs to be flying the damn ship, so guess where I am. Anyway, well done, good work, welcome back and all that," said Qubine in bored monotone that was obviously put on deliberately. "Take a break, then come see Kitterick and me tomorrow, we have a lot to discuss."_

_"I can pop over now if you like."_

_"I just thought you might want some down time first. See us when you can, but do at least go take a shower and put some shoes on first."_

_The words made David pause and look around, then he stared straight at a security camera._

_"You want me to take a shower, and then go see you and the Captain wearing just my shoes?" He would wink, except he had never been able to do it without looking silly, so he smirked at the camera instead._

_"Yes. Yes I do. It must be the hair; you're suddenly very alluring. Now get going so that everyone gets back to their stations or I'll turn up the gravity."_

_"A ten-year-old shouldn't be allowed to touch all those buttons. They're dangerous." David shook his head. "Right. See you soon."_

_Half a day later, David stepped inside Captain Kitterick's office having washed, eaten, and wearing the ship's uniform (including boots). He had intended to come sooner, but most of the ship was having a day off. It was always like this after a particularly intense operation. David was dragged into the celebrations and even given cookies by Darien. After a while he contacted the captains to make sure they were both available and finally peeled himself away from the crowd._

_Throughout the Luhang operation they had kept in close contact, so the captains shouldn't have too many questions, and they might attend the full debriefing later. Then they would probably talk about the promotions for various people on the ship, since it was about time they made an important decision which they wanted David's input on a few months ago. And there was what the Captain called David earlier: "Brigadier General", if David actually heard that right. The Umbermarici was heading to Congress now, and returning to Celapaleis after that. It was always during that homeward journey that promotions were announced, so David didn't quite believe what Kitterick had said. But when he returned to his cabin he noticed he had been given new uniform, with the right colour accents for the new role, so that couldn't have been a mistake. Still, how odd..._

_"The hero of the hour," said Qubine when the door slid shut behind David. "How does it feel?"_

_David stood at attention for a second to greet his superiors. This was a work meeting, after all, not a friendly chitchat. "Powerful. Darien gave me two cookies."_

_"Two? Damn, I hope he's at least saved one for me," said Kitterick. "Let's sit in the lounge, I like those chairs better."_

_The personal office of the Captain was part of a suite, which also had a lounge area, a bedroom as well as an ensuite bathroom, much like a large executive suite in a hotel, but more function over form. This was the first time David had come inside, and he noticed that it was practically identical to the Vice-Captain's suite, which he had visited numerous times before._

_"I've watched your hair get longer and longer every time we talk on video, but it's still odd to see it in person."_

_"Does it look bad?"_

_"It suits you actually. You should consider keeping it," said Qubine. "Sit. I'll get some drinks."_

_Somehow sitting in cushioned chairs in the lounge felt even more formal than being in the office. This was how statesmen were often photographed at their meetings, wasn't it?_

_"About Luhang," Kitterick began as Qubine went to the drinks machine, "The Empire Security Council will be talking about it at Congress. There'll be foreign secretaries and the like. You and I will also need to go."_

_Kitterick paused to gauge David's reaction, but David didn't have any particular opinion about it. He hadn't been on that side of the table at Congress before, but even if he needed to talk it looked like he would only be required to answer very specific technical questions. He could do that._

_Since David had nothing to say, Kitterick carried on. "I'll go to your debriefing. When we're on Elysion, watch how I debrief the politicians. You need to talk to them in a specific way if you want them to actually listen."_

_"One of them is ex-military. She's the only one you won't need to use kindergarten language on," said Qubine, putting down two coffees and then going back to get himself something else._

_"I see," said David, cautious. This all sounded normal, but it felt like they were trying to lead up to something._

_Returning to the chairs with his own hot drink, Qubine smirked. "I told you: David reads faces. Stop beating around the bush."_

_Kitterick huffed like a child. "We do need to prepare for Congress too!"_

_What was happening? "Sir?"_

_"Over to you, Qubine."_

_"Sure." Qubine sat down. "We need to talk about the promotions."_

_"About that, why—"_

_"I know what you want to ask, we'll get to that in a minute. David, half a year ago we told you that Kitterick will be retiring from the front line at the end of this flight, that I'll be taking his job, and we asked you to help us consider who could become Vice-Captain."_

_David nodded. He was one of the firsts to find out. He was knees-deep in the Luhang operation at the time, but still spent a full night writing up a list of people whom the captains might like to consider. Ever since he started that "little project" Qubine gave him years ago and got to know everyone on the ship well, he had been advising on whom to put into teams, how someone could be developed, and who to promote. He wasn't the only person the captains listened to, of course, there were plenty of others who had more influence on their decisions, but when they asked him what he thought, he told them._

_"Was there a problem with my list?"_

_"Not at all; it was very informative." Qubine touched a button on the coffee table to bring up a floating screen, then swiped around until he found the list, which was really a table of names with detailed analysis of each person's suitability. David also included names of those who he thought would do well but would not want to take up such a position. Torgal, for example._

_"I thought about including Maddox..."_

_"I considered him too, but I can see why you didn't put in his name. I also don't think he has the right management experience yet," said Qubine. "Anyway, thank you for that. I've spent a long time thinking about this, taking into account recommendations from all sides and, well," he shrugged, "my personal preferences. I'm going to get straight to the point: David, I want you to be my vice-captain."_

_David froze. "Excuse me?"_

_"You heard me."_

_"You must be joking."_

_They want him to be the vice-captain of this ship? He, just 19 years old, was unqualified to lead any ship at all, let alone one of the largest battleships in the fleet._

_"Far from it. You have the right skillset—"_

_"Sir, there are many people far more qualified than me, and—"_

_"And have much more experience too, I agree." Qubine gestured for David to stop talking. "Experience can be accumulated but other traits cannot be learned. I know exactly what this position requires: someone who is a fast learner, whom the Captain can trust and wants to work with, who is liked and respected by many—"_

_Kitterick couldn't help but cut in. "Sounds like you're praising yourself."_

_"Shut up," Qubine told Kitterick. "And oh, someone who who isn't afraid to tell the Captain to shut the fuck up when necessary. When I take all that into account, you're my top choice, David."_

_Speechless, David turned towards Kitterick, who nodded encouragingly at him. This was no joke._

_"There have been a few times when Brigadier Generals were promoted directly to Vice-Captains, so there are already precedents," he said._

_"Is that why I'm suddenly a Brigadier General?"_

_"Well, you'd get that promotion in a few weeks anyway. There being precedents helps; we wouldn't need to jump through special hoops to make you Vice-Captain."_

_No. David still could not believe it._

_"I'm... I'm extremely honoured but I truly don't think I'm the right person for the job."_

_Him, doing what Qubine did? He couldn't. He was nowhere near good enough. This was the chance of a lifetime and he should grab it with both hands, but he had to be honest and consider what was best for the Umbermarici._

_It might be the shock he was feeling, but Qubine's reaction was impossible to read. Was he expecting this reply, or was he angry, or disappointed? David couldn't tell._

_"You're saying that because you never considered yourself one of the candidates. I want you to go away and think about it for a few days before giving me your reply."_

_There was nothing David could do at that point except agree, and leave._

 

Returning to the inn after meeting up with Sheryl, David goes to his room and heads out onto the balcony, which offers a view of another bit of Fornstrand's coastline, although it's rather too dark now to see anything. It's starting to rain. It looks like David has got indoors just in time.

The small yellow light is on at the balcony next door. "Ricky?"

"Hey." Ricky is wearing an oversized t-shirt over baggy trousers, which serve as his pyjamas.

"Can't sleep?"

Ricky shakes his head. "Just enjoying the view. Did you have a good time?"

"My friend is kind of crazy and always fun to be with. And she knows where to get dessert all hours," David smiles. "Do you want to come over? I've brought back some mini pancakes."

A minute later, Ricky is on David's balcony eating the box of still-warm pancakes.

"Is it common to hang out with girls late at night? Back home the non-gefyrians would assume things, boyfriends get mad, et cetra."

Ricky would need to learn not to call Undelwalt "home" eventually, but David doesn't want to pick on that right now.

"I don't know how it goes here, actually. But I'm gay so it doesn't matter." David pauses. Ah. About that. "I hope you don't have a problem with that."

"Of course not."

"Good, because I don't know how we can do the rest of the journey otherwise."

Well, he would still help take Ricky to Celapaleis, and hope to change his opinion. But it would be a much gloomier flight.

"I know some bits of Undelwalt aren't so friendly, but us gefyrians are generally quite happy about different orientations."

So Ricky is gefyrian also, then. David hasn't been sure and didn't think it was his business to ask. But Qubine is only half and David knows nothing about Ricky's mother.

"Ah, yes, I forgot about that."

"There's just less reason to discriminate. I mean, I like girls, but all my ex-girlfriends were gefyrian too, so."

David can see what Ricky is getting at, and he thinks he shouldn't be imagining it. "Let's change topic. I don't know how Qubine would react if he heard us talking about this kind of thing." Especially since he has noticed the door to Qubine's balcony is open too. Qubine might be asleep, or he might be listening. "Hmm... how do you like Fornstrand?"

"Haha..." A mini pancake is dipped into the pot of syrup. "This is the first time I've left Undelwalt. Everything is amazing. These are so good. And this place is so cool."

"It is." David smiles. "I love Fornstrand. It's chock-a-block with people when it's Kosmosfest but not any other time, and I don't know why, since it's so relaxing and beautiful here. But I'm not complaining."

"Kosmosfest, huh. So this is where it happens?"

"Yes. In fact the friend I met up with earlier is the Cosmos Maiden. We first met when I was escorting her to this year's festival."

"Wasn't that when... when someone from the cult got arrested? For threatening to kill the Cosmos Maiden, weapon possession, hijacking a spaceship and all that?"

Oh. That actually hasn't come to David's mind. It's not a surprise that Ricky keeps an eye on the news for this sort of thing. David should've been more careful; even Rush isn't allowed to know exactly what he does, and here Ricky has just made a connection.

It's fine, the case is done and dusted, and is nothing highly sensitive.

"We were just taking Sheryl to the festival, and hadn't expected to actually run into that man. But since we did, we had to do something."

There are no words from Ricky for a moment. Perhaps it's a bad idea to have touched on the cult. "Ricky?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm just thinking that it's such a small world," says Ricky, who does look a lot like Qubine when he is pensive. "Although it's really huge too. I'm on a planet I've never been to, the air smells so fresh, I feel light and bouncy, and there's this amazing scenery right here."

David reminds himself to get Ricky to try jumping tomorrow. It's always fun for anyone experiencing lower gravity for the first time. "How much can you actually see? It's pitch black to me."

Ricky glances up from the pancake box. "I can see the rocky pillars a bit beyond the... beach? Shoreline?" He pops the pancake into his mouth. "I got my eyes done before leaving Undelwalt, because Celapaleis will be too bright for me if I didn't. Qubine said it wouldn't affect night vision, I'm glad he's right."

It is incredible, but also entirely logical that people from planets distant from the Sun have evolved to allow them to see without much light. David hasn't considered the implication when the situation is reversed, though. It sounds like there is a common procedure to protect gefyrian eyes from bright lighting.

"Was there much preparation to do before leaving Undelwalt?"

"Health check, vaccinations, my eyes... then I had to pack, but I haven't got too much anyway." Ricky is trying the chocolate sauce this time. "The most complicated things were my cars... and my mum's ashes."

"Oh..." David doesn't know how to react. Qubine did mention that Ricky's mother is dead.

"I've got the ashes on the ship, actually. Apparently Celapaleis doesn't need me to get special permission to transport ashes. But I should've told you, sorry."

Ricky's brought his mother with him? Just the cremated remains, of course, but does Qubine know?

"I was looking at the box and didn't know how to ask and... he just told me to take it with me," says Ricky, reading David's face. "He looked like he really didn't mind, but I don't know."

"If he said it's fine, then I'm sure it's fine." Or so David hopes. Maybe Qubine was too keen on winning Ricky over to think properly. David really hopes this isn't a decision he's going to come to regret. "You mentioned cars?"

"Yeah, cars are my thing. I've got lots of part time jobs, but cars is the main one, I work... worked in a garage."

"I see."

"I had two cars in front of the house, they aren't expensive, but I've put a lot of work into them... customising?" says Ricky, checking David's response to see if he used the right word. "I thought I was going to have to leave them behind, but Qubine wanted to take a look, then he looked under the bonnet and just said he'd get them shipped over." He still looks quite surprised so many days after the fact. "Is he always like that?"

"He has the money to spend." David shrugs. "He's into mechanics, electronics, things like that. I guess he could tell you worked on those cars and really love them."

"Huh... I wonder if I got that from him?"

David knows just what Ricky wants to hear. "You probably got a lot of things from him. But you're bigger."

The smile on Ricky's face tells David he's right. Ricky wants that blood connection. "Well... he's in the army though."

"True. But he isn't the sort of soldier you'd see on TV. I'd guess that he's tougher than you, but in terms of raw strength you should be stronger."

"Haha, maybe... a 'strong' gefyrian still isn't much though. So what did he do before he became a captain?"

"At the start he was an engineer. I've never seen him in action, but if he had to go on the field his duty was sniping and providing cover fire. It's quite a typical position for gefyrians; your people are very good at it."

"Oh. And what's your field duty?"

"Direct combat."

Ricky mutters something in Undelwaltian, then gasps. "Sorry."

"It's all right. Not everyone agrees with military action." Both he and Qubine have killed people before. David assumes that's making Ricky uncomfortable.

"No I'm thinking that you guys are really brave..."

"Really?" David tips his head to one side. It doesn't look like Ricky is lying. "You're leaving behind everything you know and going to another planet with two older men you've just met. That is true courage."

He knows how it feels to leave the life one knew. He was much younger than Ricky is now when he left home to join the army without telling anyone, but that was still nothing compared to what Ricky is doing.

Ricky chuckles. "Or pure stupidity, when you put it that way. Please don't sell me to the slavers or pimps!"

"Damn, that's that plan foiled." David helps himself to one of the last remaining pancakes.

"Really though... I am scared. Not of you or Qubine, and not of being on Celapaleis... I don't know what I'm scared about, but I'm really scared."

"That's normal," says David. "You know, I fly an envoy ship now so it rarely happens, but when I actually have to go out and fight, I get scared."

Talking to Ricky feels so easy. Even easier than talking to Rush, maybe because there are absolutely no romantic feelings involved and, David can't say why, it feels like he and Ricky are similar in some ways.

"Really?"

"Hmm. I'm not afraid of getting hurt, I'm not even too afraid of getting killed, and I say that having nearly died once. But I'm really scared of... messing up. Making wrong decisions, letting people down, causing problems for them. I'm like that with everything, really, not just when it comes to combat."

After a brief silence, thinking about what he's just heard, Ricky folds his arms on the railing and leans his weight on it. "You think like that because you're a really nice guy who worries about other people first."

David puts the empty pancake box down by their feet. "I don't know about that."

"And I think that's what I'm scared about too. What if I do something wrong and upset Qubine and his sister? What if mess up and ruin this one chance?"

"I honestly don't think you will. But if you make a mistake, then apologise and fix things. It's just like anything else."

"Do you think he will let me make more than one mistake before cutting me loose?"

David did say that before, that Qubine has no patience for people. But Ricky must be an exception. "Yes I do. You're his son, not his crew, and your home will not be a battlefield as long as you're okay with cats." He pats Ricky on the shoulder. "Once you get a new phone I'll give you my number. If Qubine isn't being a good father, tell me and I'll drop-kick him all the way to the next cluster."

He makes sure he says the last bit louder, with his face turned towards Qubine's room. After a moment, a light comes on and a head pokes out into the balcony, Qubine looking slightly bleary. "I heard my name?"

"We're just talking about what a good, strong Celapaleian name you have."

After shooting David and Ricky a comical suspicious look, Qubine retreats and disappears from view again, leaving the two of them in giggles.

"Can I state an opinion, Ricky? A purely personal opinion?"

"Sure?"

"Your name. It really doesn't suit you."

"Haha... I think so too. I'm going to pick a new one soon. A good, strong Celapaleian one."

"Good to know."


	36. Chapter 36

"David? I noticed you haven't booked your next flight yet."

David looks up from checking the Valeria Heart's status on his phone. The decision for Emmy has finally come through: no disciplinary action for failing to follow procedure, but she will have to attend a refresher course next time she's landside. This outcome cannot be better. David was just about to mention it, but Qubine has something entirely different on his mind. That's all right. David's worry shouldn't have to be Qubine's worry too.

"I was going to stay at Lamberro or Grants for a few days before heading home. I know my way around so don't worry about keeping me entertained. I assume you and Letitia and Ricky will have lots to do."

"Actually," says Qubine, tidying up around the lounge area, "I understand if you're quite tired of us by now, but if you're not..."

David's eyes widen. "You want me to stick around?"

"You and Ricky seem to get on very well." Qubine takes five mugs back to the kitchen area. David hasn't even realised there are so many mugs on the ship. "And none of us know what having a father or what being a family should be like. I have absolutely no clue what I'm doing."

"I don't know how I can help, but I don't mind hanging around if you want me to."

It's not everyday that Qubine admits he doesn't know what he's doing. The first time David heard it was seven years ago when Qubine was promoted at work. This is the second time. David won't turn away this request for help even if it's just providing moral support.

"Thank you. We'll sort something out. I'll book you a hotel room nearby."

Qubine breathes out deeply. He doesn't look tense, just a bit lost. But David has a feeling Qubine and Ricky are warming up to each other quite well already. There should be no apprehension, only the desperate desire to get things right.

"Haha..."

"What?"

"I'm just thinking about that other time when you had no idea what you were doing, and you didn't know how to ask for help. You've come a long way."

"When was that?" Qubine frowns and asks over the sound of the mugs being washed in the steam cleaner.

"You don't remember?"

"I might, but I don't know which incident you're referring to."

"Why, how often do you actually have no idea what you're doing?"

"All the time."

 

_The press conference on the Luhang operation at Congress was a doddle. David discovered that he was rather good at talking to politicians and at the actual conference he only had to answer one detailed question. After that and one other meeting which many of the senior command had to attend, the Umbermarici started her journey home._

_David couldn't wait to get home. He was missing his boyfriends in quite a few ways, and he just wanted to lie in bed for a week. It was possible, he had done it before: they brought him food and they watched films and had sex and had pillow fights and talked and slept, and David didn't leave the bedroom for days. Admittedly that was a bit extreme — it was his first time home from deployment since the relationship started so of course they wanted to spoil him rotten. This time David would be happy with just a lot of hugs and snuggles._

_Back in his room, he started clearing out his things. It'd take a little while to get to Celapaleis, where he would then take another flight to Athlum, but he didn't have much else to do. Well, he had a lot of thinking to do, and he might as well be doing something at the same time._

_What was he going to tell Qubine?_

_He couldn't just say no. That would not be constructive, and Qubine would demand reasons, which he would then overturn one by one. If David was to convince Qubine that he was not the right candidate, he must go with a recommendation ready._

_But who would be the best choice for vice-captainship?_

_The more David thought about it... the more it felt like Qubine was right. He might not be as qualified as the others, but he was qualified enough if years of service was not a criteria. And the two of them would make a good team the way the others could not._

_But David couldn't take the position. It would upset far too many people and they would be right to feel that way._

_"You look troubled."_

_David looked up from refolding his clothes. Torgal had returned to their shared room. Over the years they had switched rooms a few times following job title changes, and they hadn't always been roommates, but somehow they had ended up together again._

_Torgal was an old-timer who had served on a few other ships before the Umbermarici, and didn't have to share a room with a mere ensign back when David first joined the ship. He was the paternal sort though, even if he consistently denied it, and always looked after the young elites, guiding them to become decent people in this high-pressured environment. He could be a bit too much sometimes, but on this ship there was no one David trusted more than Torgal._

_But even so, David didn't tell Torgal about Qubine's offer. It wasn't about trust. If David shouldn't be talking about it then he would tell no one about it, that was all._

_"David?"_

_"I'm fine." David continued his tidying, moving onto his bedside drawer._

_Torgal walked over. "I presume this is about the vice-captainship?"_

_"You know about it?" David couldn't decide if he was surprised or not._

_"The Vice-Captain asked me to help him persuade you to accept."_

_"Qubine certainly knows who to use. Does this mean you agree with him?"_

_"I do. You would be an excellent vice-captain."_

_"Well. Thank you for your vote of confidence." Abandoning his task, David patted the edge of the bed. "You're always looming. Come sit down."_

_His ears twisting backwards briefly, Torgal sat. "You do not want to be the vice-captain?"_

_That was a simple, but also good question. "I don't know," David admitted. "Maybe I do want to. But I'm still trying to get my head around it, convincing myself that qualification and suitability are not the same."_

_"I must admit I am quite surprised; yours is a competitive soul."_

_David couldn't help but chuckle. "That's true. But this is too big to jump into just because I want to prove myself."_

_Torgal nodded in understanding. "I should warn you that the current tension between the Empire and the followers of the Old Imperator is likely to continue escalating."_

_David knew what Torgal meant. "And we might go to war soon, unless a miracle happens."_

_It would be Qubine leading them into this war. But with whom by his side? Was David ready and willing to do this?_

_What was it that he wanted after all these years being on this ship, in this army? He knew by now, but he needed to come to terms with it first._

_David drew a deep breath. "I'll ask for more time to think about it," he said, getting out his tablet to drop Qubine an email asking for exactly that. Qubine didn't give him a deadline but it would be rude to not at least say something._

_He received a reply almost right away:_

> From: Qubine  
>  Subject: RE: What we discussed the other day
> 
> If you have concerns I can address them. When can you give me an answer?

_This wasn't the problem, and David knew Qubine was very good at inspiring faith, but this was something David needed to think about for himself. He stared at the screen, chewed on his lip, and chose to just respond to the question: "three days."_

_Qubine's reply was equally brief: "fine."_

_The list for the general promotions, leavers and others was posted. David's new title of Brigadier General was formalised. Then, to finally address the rumours, Captain Kitterick's departure was publically confirmed, with Vice-Captain Qubine moving up to take the position as everyone expected. It was a strange time for the ship — the change of captainship happened very rarely, and although Qubine was universally viewed as a great — and inevitable — choice, it would still take some getting used to._

_On top of that, there was no announcement for the soon-to-be-vacant Vice-Captain post, which started a new wave of rumours, guesses and bets. Several people actually poked David about it, since he was close to Qubine and may have insider information, but he merely shrugged. Some even guessed that David would take the job, although there was equal, albeit less passionate, support for other candidates as well._

_So apparently although at first he didn't see himself in the running, others did consider David suitable, and it would not be too much of a shock to anyone if he accepted the job._

_But, as it turned out, he was not allowed to make that decision._

_Soon after leaving Elysion, the watch of every single person on the ship simultaneously beeped, announcing a change of schedule. This was usually a bad sign, and with bated breath they all checked the message, including David who was eating lunch at the time._

_They were going to stop at Ghor Station?_

_Then the announcement came through the speakers._

_"Kitterick here." It was the Captain, sounding unusually casual. "It's a special time for the Umbermarici, so we're going to Ghor and you're all going to have a drink on me and Qubine to celebrate. If you're too young or you don't want a drink you can have something else, just try not to break our banks."_

_That drew poignant laughter from everyone. It really was the end of an era._

_"Your future Captain has something to say as well."_

_A deep breath. "Good riddance." Qubine's child-voice filtered through the speakers. "Anyway. A fond farewell brings a new welcome. And..."_

_David froze. Had Qubine found someone else for the vice-captain role? And not even bothered telling him?_

_"...and it is my pleasure to announce that Brigadier General David, of the Diplomacy Corps and Regiment of the Golden Chalice...."_

_Oh, oh no._

_"...will be your new Second-in-Command of IAS Umbermarici. He will begin his new role after the upcoming shore leave."_

_That_ bastard _!_

_"Please wish David the best of luck, he's going to need it. I look forward to working with him, and working for you all."_

_David could not believe Qubine had just done that. Only yesterday he had asked for more time to consider..._

_Everyone at the cafeteria were cheering and applauding, and David smiled and nodded and did his best to receive every congratulatory gesture gracefully before finally excusing himself._

_He was going to talk to Qubine straight away, but he knew he was too angry to do so. Instead he sent an email, replying to the same thread from yesterday._

> From: David  
>  Subject: RE: What we discussed the other day
> 
> I didn't realise it's been three days already.

> From: Qubine  
>  Subject: RE: What we discussed the other day
> 
> You were going to accept anyway.
> 
> Come to my office. There isn't much time but we'll fit some work shadowing in.

_"You were going to accept anyway."_

_With the exception of his father, David could not remember ever feeling this infuriated by someone._

> From: David  
>  Subject: RE: What we discussed the other day
> 
> Yes sir.

 

_"Yes Captain."_

_The words were soft. Usually David spoke softly; he was the sort of person who didn't need to raise his voice to be heard. He commanded attention, he learned fast, he cared about every aspect of the ship. In the two months since he took on the new job title, David had been an excellent Vice-Captain._

_Except for that strop he had been throwing._

_The atmosphere at the bridge was often stiff when Qubine and David were both present — all of a sudden they had stopped being friends. So Qubine had jumped the gun a little when he announced David as the Vice-Captain, but it was a great step forward for David's career, and Qubine was convinced that David would accept it anyway, so David had no legitimate reason to act this way._

_The annoying part was that it wasn't as if David wasn't performing at work. So David always addressed him as "sir" or "Captain" now, and would not spend any free time with him or mention anything even remotely personal, but Qubine couldn't reprimand him for any of that._

_What the hell did David want by doing this?_

_That was more-or-less the question Darien had for Qubine one day when they met in Qubine's office._

_"I've been nominated by everyone else to come talk to you," said Darien, hopping into a seat and then using the hydraulics to raise it up._

_Qubine circled around his desk, but decided to remain standing. "What about?"_

_"What the hell is going on between you and the Davey? Everyone's getting uncomfortable, we can't work like that!"_

_"It'll pass. He's just being childish."_

_"About what? 'Cus he's never like that in front of anyone else!"_

_That was a valid point, fine. Perhaps David wasn't "just" being childish. "I'm not sure. I guess he's angry with the way I announced his promotion, but I did tell him beforehand that I wanted him to work with me."_

_Darien quieted down for a bit, and thought about it. "You've told him... then why would he be upset?"_

_Qubine sighed. Such a minor detail. "He told me to wait a few days, but I announced it anyway. That's the only thing I can think of. But if he really absolutely did not want to be Vice-Captain he would have said something when I first offered him the job. And it's a promotion, there's no reason for him not to want it."_

_Narrowing his eyes, Darien stared at Qubine as if what he said just now didn't add up. "You offered him the job."_

_"I did."_

_"He didn't say no."_

_"Of course he didn't."_

_"He also didn't say yes. He wanted a few days to think about it?"_

_"What difference does it make? He would have accepted it."_

_"If you were so sure," Darien squinted, the equivalent of raising an eyebrow in qsiti body language, "then why didn't you just wait a few days like he asked?"_

_"Well—" shit. "I was 99% certain, and didn't want to waste time waiting around. There was a lot I needed to pick up from Kitterick and a lot I needed to pass on to the next Vice-Captain."_

_"Yes yes, but did you say you'd wait? Did you tell him decisions needed to be made so hurry up?"_

_"I said..." Damn this, why was that detail important at all? Like he said, he knew David would agree in the end. "Anyway. That's still doesn't warrant this sort of behaviour."_

_"Look at someone getting defensive!" Darien hopped off his chair, sending it rolling back a few metres before stopping. "So you know what you've done wrong all along! Go and patch things up,_ Captain _, make this a nice place to work in again."_

_Oh, now Darien was giving him the "Captain" treatment too? Qubine didn't need two divas on this ship. "Why should I—"_

_"I'm not discussing with someone who is refusing to listen. No cookie for you this year!"_

_Goddammit._

_Fine. If it mattered so much, for the sake of the ship Qubine would apologise even if he had done nothing wrong._

_That was, if David would even spare a moment for him._

_"David, I'd like to see you in my office."_

_"You're seeing me right now, sir."_

_"I'd prefer to talk in private."_

_"Is this urgent, Captain? Because my schedule is quite full."_

_"When is your next break?"_

_"Sir. Not for a while; I'm using my breaks for training and recovery sessions."_

_"So I'll have to catch you in your sleep."_

_"Pretty much, sir."_

_So that was what Qubine did. He found one night when they were both off duty, left his suite wearing his pyjamas on his normal body, crossed the corridor, and rang David' doorbell._

_David let him in. Perhaps the surprise factor helped._

_"What is it, Captain?" he led the way into the lounge, where a side lamp was left on. This was Kitterick's old suite, identical to the one Qubine was living in._

_"Darien asked me to come and sort things out with you."_

_"Oh, you didn't come out of the goodness of your own heart, then," David commented, choosing to perch on the armrest of one of the plush seats. He was also wearing his night clothes. His hair had been cut short again; when Qubine commented on it after the shore leave, all David said was "long hair is stupid, sir."_

_It was such a shame, Qubine thought the long hair looked very nice. But that must be exactly why David had it all cut off._

_"I feel there's more to be gained if you would just tell me what's going on rather than give me attitude."_

_"Sir, you don't know? At all?" David tipped his head gently to one side._

_Qubine wasn't sure what he should do. Should he sit down? Stay standing where he was? "I think you're unhappy with how I handled your promotion."_

_"That's a start."_

_"But that hardly justifies this teenage tantrum."_

_He watched David draw a long, deep breath. The diplomat, the leader that he was, David could contain his reaction if he wanted to, but he was choosing not to._

_"You don't understand how that was wrong."_

_"No. And you seemed perfectly happy when we were on Ghor celebrating with Kitterick."_

_"That was because it wasn't Captain Kitterick's fault. I don't know how you were raised, Captain, but my family taught me manners and the importance of receiving consent before taking."_

_Qubine nearly had to bite back a bitter smile; David had no idea how true his own words were._

_"If I had given you the three days you wanted, would you have accepted the job?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Then what is the bloody difference?" Qubine opened his arms wide._

_Now, a sigh. One that spelt disappointment. Which really rather burned._

_David pointed at a chair, gesturing for Qubine to sit down._

_"I met my current boyfriends two years ago during shore leave," said David, and Qubine could not fathom where this was going. "They've already been together for a few months at that point. I thought they were charming, and smart, and gorgeous, and I couldn't believe it when they asked me out. I was basically head over heels for them since the start."_

_David got up, went to the mini bar, and fussed about with some tea bags. "That shore leave was ten weeks long. I met them... on the second week. By the fourth week we were together. That left us six weeks before I had to come back to the ship." He paused. "Tea?"_

_"Um. Yes, please." Qubine nodded, This was the sort of situation when Athlumians offered tea because the conversation was difficult, right? "I don't mind listening but where is this going, David?"_

_"We didn't have sex."_

_"Excuse me?"_

_"For almost all of those six weeks, I didn't sleep with them." David handed a cup of hot tea to Qubine, and holding one of his own, he returned to where he perched before. "I wasn't ready. I knew I did want to sleep with them, and I would, eventually, but just not right that moment. But they didn't push me. At no point did they say, 'but it's almost time you have to go back to work for a year and you're still not putting out', and they didn't hold me down and fuck me anyway because..." he put down the tea and air-quoted, "'you'll eventually say yes anyway so what's the bloody difference'."_

_That was..._

_Qubine's throat went dry. "You are implying that I forced myself on you?"_

_David sipped his tea. "I'm not implying. You did. You agreed you'd wait, then you decided you didn't want to wait anymore, assumed I consented and fucked me up the arse."_

_Ridiculous! "That's hardly a fair comparison! It's a job! A promotion that anyone would want!"_

_"Is it just a job?" David whispered through gritted teeth. "Don't tell me you don't think we'll be heading into civil war pretty soon, one that will be hundreds of times the scale of Luhang. I don't look forward to it, but I'm prepared to give everything I have, not just because I've sworn an oath of office — I want to help you. I honestly want to help you, I've decided that's what I want to do with my life in this army. But you wouldn't even give me just three days to come to terms with it in my head, to tell myself I'm ready to lead the friends I've grown up with into battle and possibly lose them, that I'm choosing to do it myself and not forced into it."_

_Oh god._

_Qubine had nothing to say to that._

_He had taken David's loyalty and walked all over it like it was a god-given right._

_David should not even have tolerated him this far, letting him in and taking the time to explain exactly how he had violated his will and freedom of choice._

_"So do excuse my attitude and my teenage tantrum. I guess that's what you get for making a 19-year-old your second." David stood. He was clearly finished with this conversation._

_Qubine rose from his seat as well. "David."_

_"I'm going to bed. Let yourself out after you finish your tea."_

_"David I'm sorry."_

_It didn't look like David wanted to know. He took his tea with him, heading for bed. "Really."_

_"Really. You're not the only one afraid of this war," said Qubine, suddenly feeling chilly in his pyjamas. "I need you. I told myself if you refused completely I would leave the position empty and try asking again in a few months, but when you didn't accept right away I... panicked. So I disregarded your feelings and jumped the gun."_

_Stopping in his tracks, David frowned. "You panicked?"_

_"What makes you think I know how to be a captain? I have no idea what I'm doing!"_

_It had been such a long time since Qubine last saw an expression on David's face that wasn't anger or indifference. "It shouldn't be reassuring at all to hear that, but somehow it is."_

_"I can't undo what's been done, but..." Could Qubine even ask for forgiveness? "I truly am sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?"_

_"Nothing."_

_"David. Please."_

_"It's fine. You're sorry, it's over as far as I'm concerned. Just... don't do it again." David visibly relaxed. "Like you said, what's done is done. I'll deal with it."_

_And the atmosphere changed, just like that. Was that all? David only wanted to hear an apology? He'd deal with it? "This is enough for you? After two months of hating the sight of me?"_

_"I didn't hate you, your face just made me angry. Especially that smug ten-year-old version." David returned to his chair, sitting properly in it this time. "I mean, if you want to make it up... an eye for an eye, and you did fuck me over hard..." he smirked at Qubine for the first time in months. "But I'm faithful to my boyfriends so I'll just have to let you go."_

_The "smug ten-year-old version". All of a sudden Qubine remembered their first conversation: David, then only 14, calling him "fun-sized". Although not literally a man with a child's body the way Qubine chose to be, hidden behind David's playfulness was a maturity that was far beyond his age. But even so, Qubine would never have thought that they would be here a mere few years later, talking in their pyjamas in one of the captain's suites, and he would be first unrepentant and then overcome with gratefulness because of David's loyalty and forgiveness. Things that could not be bought. Things that he didn't know he had until he almost ruined them._

_"Then I'm lucky, and your partners are also very lucky," said Qubine. He didn't even mind the casual innuendos when he really probably should. "Unlike me, you were brought up right."_

_"Haha..."_

_Qubine sat back down as well._

_"One of these days I should tell you about my family."_

_"Is that meant to sound so ominous?"_

_"Manners were certainly not something they worried about... but that's too long a conversation for tonight."_

_Qubine had heard that the prosecution had finished building the case and his parents' trial would finally take place soon. He was just waiting for the court summons. For a long time he had been contemplating telling David about it, but their frosty relationship the last two months had held him back._

_Head inclined gently to one side, David's gaze softened. "I have time."_

_Ha. Qubine nearly forgot how well David could read faces._

_How to start..._

_Without a word, Qubine reached for the tablet computer left on a side table, entered an encyclopaedia, and brought up the article. He turned the tablet around and held it out to his friend._

_David took it, brows furrowing._

_"Read the main article — feel free to read the rest too, but it's extensive and you might want to leave it for later. After you understand the outline, give Kitterick a call."_

_"Captain Kitterick?"_

_"Yes. I've told him I might be telling you about it. He'll give you an overview for me. I would tell you myself but... I'm not very good at handling the initial reaction." It was something Qubine found out when he first told Kitterick, actually. Talking about it was not a problem, but the immediate aftermath was._

_David nodded, confused and uncertain. "But about this article—" he quickly scanned the first paragraph. "Why do you want me to read about a cult on Undelwalt?"_

_"The cult was founded by my parents." Qubine took a deep breath. "David, I'm not Celapaleian. I mean, I wasn't. I was born on Undelwalt and arrived at Celapaleis around ten years ago as an asylum seeker. Then I was entered into a protection programme. I chose a new name, and records were created for me — birth certificate, education background, medical records, everything to make it look like I was born on Celapaleis."_

_David became very, very still._

_"So... I'll come back in half an hour and answer any question you may have. If Kitterick's not available then I'll explain it to you myself."_

_"Okay..."_

_"I'm afraid it won't be a jolly story, and I apologise in advance for rewarding your friendship with something like this."_

_Qubine let himself out._

 

The Kellendros is a lovely ship, truly, but Celapaleis is a much-welcomed sight after all the travelling. Qubine can't wait to show Ricky home, though at the same time he fears the possibility of his son not liking Celapaleis.

His son. Qubine thinks he's getting used to the idea although he still has no clue what being a father entails. But he does know that this is family he does want, no matter how Ricky came to exist in the first place.

Not that what is happening is something he has ever considered, but he has honestly never thought that "family" is important to him as a concept. Of course Letitia means everything — more than everything — to him, but he has never felt the desire for a spouse or for children, although he has met plenty of people who felt their lives incomplete without a family of their own. But now he feels he would do anything for this son he has only just met.

Ricky has come up beside him, his eyes fixed on the blue planet that is their destination, his mouth slightly parted.

"When David said we'd warp to Celapaleis I didn't realise we'd jump out right in front of the planet," says Ricky, habitually using Undelwaltian.

Qubine hesitates for a brief moment. Which language should he use to reply with? He's spent so long pretending Undelwalt had never been part of his life, but his son may not want to do the same. And if that's the case, Qubine's own story will need to be adjusted.

Or, he can look at it this way: he owes nobody any explanation.

He can think about this later when they're home.

"This Siebenbur path is very convenient when it's open," he replies in Undelwaltian. "We'll be landing soon, so let's tidy up and not leave David's ship in a mess."

"I heard my name."

They turn towards their pilot, both shrug, offer no translation, and commence their task of cleaning up. And David, the tolerant soul that he is, chooses to be amused rather than annoyed.

Ricky checks if there is any washing up left to be done, and puts things back in their various cupboards. Qubine wonders how his hair doesn't get in the way of doing things.

"I've been meaning to ask about something. I realise there isn't really a good time for the question, and David said I should just ask you..."

"Yes?"

"Are there many people who know about your background?"

And by extension, Ricky's background. This is a good time to discuss this, actually, before they get home. Letitia hates talking about the past and can hardly tolerate the mention of it, but this is something Ricky needs to know.

"If you don't count the authorities, my therapist, and the crew of the ship that took me to Celapaleis, then just two: David, and another friend of mine," says Qubine, staying in Undelwaltian. Their repeated use of his name has made David glance at them again, and Qubine shrugs once more, making David briefly arch an eyebrow at him.

"I see."

Qubine folds away the bedding David has been using. "Do you think you'll want to talk about it? To a therapist, or to people you trust?"

Ricky stutters a bit. "I don't know?"

"I think you can make your own judgment. If there are friends you trust, I don't mind if you tell them. If you want to see a therapist, that's also not a problem at all. In fact I recommend it."

"Okay..."

"Trusting someone with a secret is like letting them hold your leash, in a way." Qubine sits down. There is little cleaning to do because Ricky has been very careful about keeping tidy all the time. "The right person will walk with you, not let you get lost, and haul you back from danger. The wrong person won't let you move forward. Intentionally or not, they will strangle you."

Slowly, Ricky nods. Qubine hopes he truly understands — Qubine will try to guide him, but he won't tell him how to live his life when he hasn't been there all these years. He doesn't have the right.

"I'm glad you've found someone you can trust," says Ricky, glancing in David's direction.

"Me too." But Qubine remembers the state David was in that night, after learning the truth about his background. It had strengthened their friendship, and he knew David would claim he would not have it any other way, but Qubine still wished he didn't have to hurt David like that.

"So, when we get to Celapaleis... I will need a new name."

"Yes. Have you picked one?"

Ricky shakes his head. "I've looked at lists of common Celapaleian names but..."

"They do need it as soon as possible, but I wouldn't worry. You can always just pick something random and then change it by deed poll later."

"Actually I was thinking... would you mind choosing a name for me?"

"Oh?"

That is all Qubine manages to reply with. The son he'd left behind for many years wants him to give him a name.

"If that's... okay?" Ricky's brows knot. Qubine's reaction must have confused him.

How? His life hasn't been the easiest. How does this boy, this young man manage to still be so pure, so mature, so forgiving?

In this sense, Ricky is so much like someone Qubine knows. One of the men whom he has trusted his leash to.

He snorts, and shakes his head at himself. Tempting as it may be to name his own son after David, it would be quite awkward indeed if he did so.

But Qubine thinks he knows what name he'd like to give his son.

"Of course it's okay. I would be honoured."


	37. Chapter 37

Just as David steps into Lamberro Spaceport's arrivals hall, he spots Qubine's sister Letitia running into his peripheral vision. He waves at her and she flits over, meeting him and her family, now 50% larger than before.

Everyone's eyes meet, and nobody knows what to do.

David makes the first move, breaking the stalemate that is caused by too much excitement. "You're looking wonderful," he says, stepping closer to give her a hug.

"You!" She throws her arms around him, squeezing hard. "You are my favourite person in the world. Thank you so much."

"You're very welcome," says David with a laugh, moving away so that Letitia can give her new nephew the same treatment. Then she pulls Qubine in too, and David manages to get his phone out just in time to snap a picture. Moments like this need to be preserved.

"You should've called me before you landed, not after!"

Qubine glares at his sister. "My timing was perfect; we've had to spend time to go through all sorts of legal procedures as soon as we touched down."

Letitia sighs like she's tired of him, turning towards her nephew instead. "I've been dying to meet you!" She smiles. "I'm Letitia. I'm Qubine's older sister, which makes me your aunt."

There's an air of suspense, then the young man beams back at her. "I'm Kitt. Short for Kitterick."

So that's the name that was chosen in the end? David had been made to wait for them earlier at border controls and wasn't privy to the official proceeding. "Kitterick" isn't an unusual Celapaleian name, but David doesn't doubt that Qubine has named his son after their old captain.

David makes a sound of approval. It's a good name; "Kitt" suits the young man far better than "Ricky", not to mention "Kitterick" still retains part of the old name.

Hearing that, Letitia pulls back a bit and studies Kitt, and nods in satisfaction. "You're definitely a Kitterick."

"Qubine picked it for me."

"I can see why he chose it," says Letitia, sounding pleased. "Come on, let's all go home."

David was going to go to his hotel now and leave them alone for the day, but to be honest they can definitely use his help with all the luggage. For someone who has just moved planet Kitt has brought very little with him, but the gefyrians can still use a xiphosian hand here.

Going back to Qubine and Letitia's is not as simple as just hopping into a car, since they have to transfer all their luggage from the Kellendros into Letitia's van, but eventually they got there. With nearly no traffic late at night, the drive was quick and easy.

As they unload the van, Qubine explains to Kitt what he is seeing: these few blocks are in a protected zone, which is why the highrises abruptly stop from three streets back. The neighbourhood is old, many residents have lived here at least half of their lives, some even go back a generation or two, which is unusual at this day and age. The building which houses Amber Cafe on the first floor and their home on the second and third floors, is owned by them since some years ago. The electronics specialist — not junk, Qubine adds while giving his sister a look — store at street level is ran by a man who pays them rent. He's been a good tenant for many years and Qubine sometimes visits to peruse his wares.

David lifts an eyebrow. "Please say you mean you go and geek out, because that sounds like an awful innuendo otherwise."

"Only to you," says Qubine while his son looks scandalised and amused at the same time.

There is a notice saying that the Amber Cafe will be closed tomorrow due to a family event. Everyone step into the lift and head upwards.

"I've got a few hired staff so theoretically we could keep the cafe open, but I thought you should meet the cats as soon as you can. They're part of the family after all," says Letitia.

As Kitt nods, Qubine adds, "During the day they are kept at the cafe. After business hours they are free to roam all three floors using the stairs. They're all rescues with one health problem or another so they're not allowed out. Remember not to open the window grills unless you've checked your room is cat-free."

"Okay."

When the lift doors open, they arrive straight into the living room. David has been expecting a front door of some kind.

"So..." Qubine begins, but suddenly loses his words. Shaking his head at himself, he simply tells Kitt to go inside.

This is also David's first visit to Qubine's home, but he hangs back at the lift and watches Letitia put a key card in her brother's hand. Qubine glances at it, then gives it to his son.

"This makes the lift come up here. It's yours. Your room is upstairs, first door on the left."

Kitt takes the key card, wordless.

"I... this was our first real home on Celapaleis. I'd love for you to see this as your home too, and live here for as long as you want. If..." Qubine hesitates for a moment, "if you decide you'd like to live elsewhere... you are an adult already, so I understand and I'll help you find a place. Or if you do enjoy living with us but the space is too small for three adults and..." he looks around — cats are starting to appear, having heard the lift, Duke being the first to show, "all the animals, we can look for somewhere bigger. I mean, options are available. I don't know what you need or want, but if you tell me, I'll do my best to provide it."

Hearing that, Kitt's eyes go red in an instant.

And David has never heard Qubine speak in such a tone before. It sounds like a man asking for forgiveness, and it sounds like hope.

God, David feels like he's intruding upon something private. He shouldn't be here, and he's going to well up too if he doesn't do something. Nodding at Letitia, he takes Kitt's things upstairs for him, going up one more floor using the lift.

All the doors are open, probably to help make Kitt feel welcomed. Qubine's house seems quite unusual, with the lift opening directly into the living spaces, so David wonders if the building had a different use before it became a home. Whatever the case, it has a homely feel to it now. On the upper floor just before the corridor there is a small space next to a window, almost like an alcove, and the old, battered armchair and side table piled high with traditional paper books tells David this is a favourite spot in the house. Pictures decorate the walls, some are digital frames with mostly photos of people, others being traditional frames with art prints. Someone, probably Letitia, has a thing for art — there was pottery downstairs too, displayed in a cabinet and safe from the cats.

The room for Kitt looks freshly furnished, and shouldn't be the "spare room" that Qubine previously offered David to stay in should David wanted to, so this probably used to be Qubine or Letitia's room. A quick nosy peek around confirms the thought — Qubine is now in the smaller spare room.

And. Good god. So many cats.

The new kitten at the cafe the first time he visited, whose name he can't remember — was it Stilney? — is still quite kitten-looking, with a head too large for his body and ears too large for his head. He and a few have already walked past David, most likely to investigate what's going on downstairs. There's one more cat which David has met before but again can't recall the name of, just standing in the corridor staring at him, and another remaining soundly asleep on Kitt's new bed.

And then there is the...

Not having spotted it at first, David jumps when it moves; he'd thought it was a stuffed toy.

His eyes meet with the beast's. It ignores him, leaves Kitt's room, brushes past David's legs and heads for the stairs.

Following the animals, David goes back down, just in time to see Kitt's reaction to the beast that has just shown itself, which manifests as an exclamation in Undelwaltian. The beast wanders over to the new person, and the new person wanders over to the beast, each giving the other a suspicious look.

Kitt crouches down and says something again, and Qubine replies in Standard. "He is a cat."

That prompts Kitt to switch language. "He is massive! This is a medium-sized dog! A mini lion!"

"He is the only one who gets walked, so in that sense he is a bit like a dog. But he is very much a cat. Not an uncommon type here, in fact." Qubine scratches the large, long-haired, dark grey cat between the ears. "Kitt, meet Kitterick."

Letitia laughs into her hand. David doesn't even know how to react.

Kitt gives his father a look. "Did... you name me after a cat?"

There is a kind of similarity between Kitt and Kitterick the cat, David thinks. Maybe it's the long hair.

Qubine doesn't answer the question. "We got him when we moved in here. He's about the same age... I think he's a little older than you, in fact. The vet says he can live to 40, 50 years old."

Kitt very slowly, very carefully puts his arms around the cat. "I thought I was more a dog person but look at him, he's majestic!"

"Size queen," Qubine mutters under his breath, his gaze set on David for just a moment. "Just like someone I know."

David shrugs, nonchalant. "I don't know what you're implying."

"Bigger is better though," says Kitt, now hugging the cat tightly. The cat looks unconcerned.

"See, your son understands."

Qubine shrugs too. "I didn't say it's a bad thing."

"No, because secretly you are one of us."

"Well, it's good to see the Kittericks get on..." says Letitia with a giggle, and Kitt looks up from burying his face into the cat's fur.

"Can we at least call him Catterick so that we don't get confused?"

Letitia puts her hands on her hips. "Of course not. He's been Kitterick for longer than you have. We'll call you Kitt, it's fine."

"I bet I'm 'Kitt' now and 'Kitterick' when I'm in trouble..."

That makes everyone smile.

Finally, Letitia puts a hand on her nephew's shoulder. "Kitt, why don't you look around, find your room, settle down a bit? Take a shower if you want, I'm sure you can figure out how everything works."

"O-okay."

That's a good idea, because it's not just Kitt, Qubine looks like he needs some time to process all that's happened as well. Once Kitt is gone, David excuses himself too, going back down to the van to get the rest of the things; this is going to take several trips.

So far, so good. Everything has gone well. Qubine has no need to worry, no need to wait for the other shoe to drop.

Maybe someone else would think that David has been summoned to help, to perform a major favour, and they may be right. But to David, he has been permitted to witness something personal and intimate, something he will never forget. And Qubine may say that David is a very forgiving person, but David knows better: he is able to forgive, yes, but Qubine is the one who knows how to move on.

 

_Qubine was a refugee. No, more like a witness if he was provided with a new identity._

_He was escaping from a cult? One that was started by his own family?_

_The article in David's hands was dense and fairly jumbled. Many points were marked as "ongoing"; there were current investigations and trials, and therefore much of the information had not been made public, and there were more points with [citation needed] behind them than those without. Even so, David managed to piece together a few basic facts: the religious cult had committed numerous crimes, swindling money from followers — which it had in the thousands — the way cults did, and often bribed its way out of trouble. It was influential across many areas on Undelwalt. It ran for more than 15 years before the leaders were arrested, although there were still practitioners to this day._

_Qubine came from such a place._

_He disagreed with his parents' ways, then? So much so that he chose to abandon not just them, and not just the country, but the entire planet?_

_And he was trusting David with this information?_

_David got his phone, stared at it for a long moment, then tried his former captain's number._

_"Hi David."_

_"Hello, Captain."_

_Silence._

_"Everything going okay?"_

_"It's a steep learning curve, luckily things have been fairly smooth so far."_

_Silence._

_"Did Qubine tell you to call me?"_

_"Yes sir."_

_"I see. He did tell me he would. Good thing I'm at home right now," A soft sigh. "So what do you know so far?"_

_"He said he originally came from Undelwalt, and went to Celapaleis as a refugee. He also showed me some information on a religious cult which he said his parents started."_

_David faintly heard Captain Kitterick tell someone he was taking an important call, then a door sliding shut._

_"Yes, that's all true. He stole his way onto one of the IA ships and came to Celapaleis when he was 16, 17. The legal details are hazy since his case was unique, but Celapaleis accepted him, thank god. He's absolutely dedicated and loyal to the IA and Celapaleis because they had saved him and his sister. In fact I reckon he enlisted because of it."_

_"Of course I'm also glad that he went to Celapaleis, though I'm surprised that they accepted someone fleeing from a cult. From a political point of view shouldn't the best course of action be to return him to his home planet and let the local authorities handle the problem?"_

_"You're right, but relations between Celapaleis and Undelwalt weren't great all those years ago. We called out on their human rights issues a lot, and the cult had influential members and Undelwalt was very corrupt at the time. Like I said, Qubine's case was unique."_

_They were skirting around something, David could feel it. "Sir."_

_A pause. "Ah, shit, there's really no delicate way to put this." Another pause. "Because of his looks, his parents used him as a kind of religious... symbol, like he was a semi-deity. And they tried to breed from him. He was used for that since before he was 12 until he finally got away."_

_"Sir."_

_David didn't know why he said that. Maybe because he was in too much shock to say anything else._

_"He and his sister were drugged and then had tracers planted inside them. He was made to sleep with useful members of the cult in exchange for food and water for himself and his sister. Those members thought they were favoured by their god, and they were told if he cried or said anything unusual it was because he was absorbing their sins or testing their faith." Kitterick's explanation came rapidly, as if he wanted to get this over and done with as soon as he could. "If he really kicked up he was locked inside a trunk for days at a time. He was constantly underfed to keep him looking delicate and so that he had no strength to fight."_

_David couldn't breathe._

_"Over the years he learned to look like he had been completely broken and that accepted his fate, so they let him go out since they still had his sister, and he couldn't get away from them since he had the tracer. He studied in secret, planned his escape and one day he and his sister cut themselves open, pulled out the tracers and ran for their lives."_

_Another silence. And then David drew a shuddering breath._

_"I see."_

_No, he couldn't. He couldn't understand at all._

_"David, are you all right?"_

_"No sir. I feel sick." David's voice cracked before he even realised he was on the verge of tears._

_How could people... Qubine's own parents, people who were supposed to love and protect him..._

_"I did too, when I first found out," said Kitterick. "It feels disrespectful to summarise years of suffering in a few sentences."_

_"No I— I appreciate that you've kept it concise."_

_"Hmm. It's both grim telling and grim listening."_

_"Agreed." David, somehow, managed to speak, although he sounded like he was being strangled. "What do I... I don't know what to say to him."_

_"What you need to keep in mind, David, is that it is_ his _past. He is able to accept that you are upset over it, but he doesn't really know how to deal with your reaction, and he shouldn't have to."_

_David made a sound of acknowledgement._

_"Don't project your reaction at him, don't tell him what he should do or how he should feel. He has a contact list of people who are trained to give him help if he needs it. Making the choice to tell you isn't a cry for help but an invitation for you to understand him better, such as the fact that he'd missed a lot of school so he likes to sit in the classes on the ship, or how he sometimes doesn't understand pop culture references because he was living on Undelwalt at the time. He's worked hard but there are still gaps in his knowledge in unexpected places. If you see that happening, try to—"_

_"Back him up."_

_"Yes," said Kitterick. "Support him as his friend and his second. He hasn't needed to see his therapist for years, for example, but if he needs to make that video call, you're here to command the Umbermarici in his place. He can handle his past if you help him with the present."_

_"Understood."_

_"I'm glad you're there. I think it helps him that the vice-captain is a good friend."_

_Was that what Qubine meant when he said he really wanted David to be his vice-captain, and panicked when he didn't get a positive answer straight away? He honestly meant it when he said he would rather leave the position empty and ask again after a few months had David refused?_

_"I will do my best."_

_"Things aren't going well with the old royalists, and his parents' trial might finally be coming up. I told him I could stay at least until after the trial and leave a year later so that he has one less thing to worry about, but he wouldn't have it."_

_"That would be unfair to you, sir. Besides, then I would have had to wait another year for this promotion."_

_"Haha..."_

_"Qubine and I have the Umbermarici now. Old men like you should know when to bow out."_

_"Good." A deep and slightly shaky breath. "Right... I need to go."_

_David needed a few minutes to himself too. He didn't feel like he could maintain conversation for much longer. "Okay. Thank you, Captain."_

_"Take care, David. Remember that he is fine. It might be hard to believe, but he really is fine now."_

_"He's still the same person I knew before."_

_"Correct. Now, I'm going to wash my face..."_

_"Haha... I should do that too."_

_Silence fell again, but this time high pitched, boring straight into David's skull, when he hung up. He should do something. Made sure he looked all right. Qubine would return soon._

_But all he could do was curl up and cry._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Qubine's backstory was mostly what Storme wanted. All I said was "his parents were criminals" and then it became this. I don't even know how that happened.


	38. Chapter 38

The door is closed. Like most houses, Qubine's home uses slide doors which go into a cavity in the wall, but the ones here have an addition that David has never seen indoors before: cat flaps. Not big enough for Kitterick-the-not-dog to go through, of course, but it's cute to see anyway.

David curls his fingers and knocks on the door. "Ric—" he stops, then corrects himself. "Kitt? They're ordering food downstairs. Are you hungry?"

No answer. Maybe Kitt is asleep.

Then David hears a quiet sniff.

Hmm.

"Kitt? May I come in?"

"Y-yeah."

David turns around, going back to the bathroom he's just visited to take a roll of toilet paper before going into Kitt's room. Kitt sees him and cracks a smile.

"I've got..." he waves the box of tissues in his hands. "But thanks."

David shrugs, pulls over a chair that has a jacket draping over the back of it, and sits down near the bed where Kitt is sitting. The cat that was asleep earlier is still snoozing on the covers.

"Are you all right?"

Kitt's eyes and face are bright red, but it seems like the tears are mostly over and done with now.

"Yeah. It's just too much, but I'm very happy. Please don't worry about me."

David would be convinced if, looking at the things that have been unpacked so far, he didn't see a box sitting on top of a chest of drawers, with the surrounding space cleared although most other surfaces are now covered with things. The box is plain, but clearly good quality and made of wood. And the size of it makes David wonder if it's what he thinks it is.

Kitt follows David's gaze, then he dips his head. David suddenly realises there is a gap in the information he's been given.

He gets his phone out. "I'm just going to tell them we'll be down late and to save us some food."

**D:** My apologies for asking, but when did Kitt's mother die, and how?

**Q:** She killed herself recently.   
**Q:** I actually forgot about this. How is he?

Qubine has forgotten about it. Strange as that is, David can believe it.

**D:** I'm guessing he hasn't had the time to grieve. Best I handle this, I don't think he'd want to talk to you or Letitia about her.   
**D:** Save us some food.

**Q:** Okay. Thank you and sorry.

**D:** Don't worry, he'll be fine.

"Kitt." David sets his phone on silent before putting it away. "It's okay to be upset. I like a good cry sometimes. It doesn't solve anything, but it helps to let the pressure out."

He watches as Kitt scratches his scalp and makes a mess out of his own hair as if trying to use it to cover his face. That looks quite comforting, David thinks. Maybe he should try growing out his hair again.

"I just..." Kitt draws his knees towards his chest and buries his face in them. "It's true, I really am really happy! You're all so nice to me, I've never expected to be welcomed like this. I'm so grateful, so glad to have family again..."

David can hear the unsaid words. "But you miss your mother," he says them for Kitt, patting him on the shoulder. "And that's fine."

"Is it? You must all hate her. You must think she got the easy way out."

Kitt's directness surprises David a little; he's been affable so far that the word "hate" should not be part of his vocabulary. David cannot deny that his thoughts towards Kitt's mother are not kind, but those are just that: his thoughts. And how he feels about her is irrelevant. "She was your mother, you don't need anyone's permission to love her."

And that reply, in turn, takes Kitt by surprise.

"She was a good mum too..."

Does David really want to know anything about her? He doesn't think so. But right now there's no one for Kitt to talk to, not even his own friends, until he knows the wi-fi password.

David shifts his chair closer.

"Let's remember her," he says to Kitt. "Tell me about your mum."

 

_"Oh, look at the state of you."_

_Qubine had let himself back in. David didn't hear the doorbell or the door opening, but he'd set up permission for Qubine to enter his suite at any time anyway._

_Although in reality no more than ten minutes could have passed, David felt like an old, empty husk, as if he hadn't been shedding tears, but pieces of his soul. Sitting up was a challenge, his head was pounding and spinning at the same time, and all he managed to do was make himself upright while covering his eyes with the palm of his hand._

_"I'm so sorry," he croaked, then cleared his throat so that he could continue. "I said some terrible things earlier."_

_Something hot briefly touched the back of his hand. He lifted his face and saw a steaming cup of tea being held right in front of him. He took it with both hands._

_"No you didn't," said Qubine simply._

_"Because my metaphor for how you made me vice-captain was totally acceptable? It was fine for me to say that you weren't brought up well?"_

_"Oh that." Qubine sat down. "I thought it was funny in its own way. Senior command on this ship has an excellent sense of humour."_

_It took David a long, long moment to realise that those were the words from the first conversation they'd ever had. He was just 14 then._

_When Qubine was 14, he was on Undelwalt being abused in every possible way._

_Yet here he was, saying he wasn't offended by David's completely naive and insensitive words after having made a cup of tea to comfort him._

_David blew on his tea until it cooled down enough to sip. He should make conversation, but he didn't know what to say first._

_To not be broken by a life like that, to have eventually escaped, and to have forged a new and incredible life for himself — it would be easy to gush, but that wasn't what he wanted to do, and somehow he didn't think Qubine would like that either._

_Perhaps humour really was the best way to go._

_"Damn. I thought you learned to speak Undelwaltian. I thought you were a genius who just picked up one of the hardest languages to learn for fun and became fluent at it."_

_"I didn't say it was for fun. I said I learned it because I liked an Undelwaltian girl once. I thought that would sound more convincing." Qubine sat down next to David, nearly grinning. "But I am still a genius."_

_It felt easier to breathe now. David wiped his face with his sleeve again, just in case, then tried to fix his hair. "Did you choose Celapaleis, then?"_

_"My preferences were Nagapur, Celapaleis, then Balterossa, in that order, based on how bad their relationship was with Undelwalt and their asylum processes. When I stole into the spaceport there was only an IA ship going to Celapaleis."_

_"Can you imagine if you became Nagapurian instead? You would have gone out everyday dressed like an echindamoth with extra feathers."_

_"And winged eyeliner."_

_"I would pay to see you like that."_

_"Far too much effort. You'll have to hold on to your money I'm afraid."_

_"That's a shame. You've got steady sniper hands, so you'd be very good at putting on eyeliner."_

_"How unfortunate that I live on Celapaleis now."_

_"Nagapur's loss," said David, putting down his cup of tea. "So... you have children?"_

_Qubine frowned. "Of course not. If I'd given them a child then... hmm, I'm not sure how things would have changed," he said. "David, I'm only half-gefyrian. My father is a homs."_

_David's mouth parted in surprise. Yes he did read that in the article, that the cult was founded by a homs and a gefyrian, but somehow it just didn't register. In mitra biology, different species were able to produce offspring, and the offspring would always be born as the species of one of their parents, but they would not be able to reproduce._

_"Why did they even try?"_

_"Because the chance of conception is close to zero but it's not statistically impossible. It's like trying to win the lottery — you're unlikely to win, but if you don't buy a ticket then you definitely won't win."_

_"But to—" David began, then cut himself off. It was absurd to put their own son through that for a chance so small, but it was clear that Qubine's parents were people who could not be reasoned with. And there was no point for David to raise his voice here; he was talking to the victim, not the perpetrators._

_Qubine could follow David's thoughts, step-by-step, the corners of his lips curling when David shut himself up._

_"The men didn't matter, of course, but they picked the women by looks and genetics. They tried artificial inseminations too, but I never gave them the grandchild they wanted. My sister escaped all of this only because she was totally infertile; she couldn't even produce anything for AI."_

_It was hard resisting burying his face in his hands in horror. And David didn't know where to look, so he kept staring at his own knees. He could joke again and congratulate Qubine on being sterile, but that was a highly sensitive subject for some people that should never be made fun of. Qubine didn't state that he didn't want children of his own._

_Again, it was as if Qubine could read those thoughts. "The idea of having my own child born into the cult is possibly worse than having to spend another decade there. I think I would rather have died."_

_Both were ideas David did not ever want to entertain. "I think I'm going to be sick."_

_"You're Athlumian, aren't you? Drink your tea and it'll all be better."_

 

"I... don't know what to say."

David doesn't hurry Kitt, or even say anything, and simply waits. After a few moments, Kitt reaches for the jacket that's hanging on David's chair, and takes out his phone. Then he shows David a picture.

"We took this a few months ago."

The picture is of Kitt and his mother, who had a faint smile on her lips. She was a stunningly beautiful woman, with long, slanted eyes, thin lips and the sort of nose that women would use as an example to show their cosmetic surgeons. Her long, wavy hair was worn loose. She seemed quite thin, though not to a worrying degree, but she also looked a little tired. As for age, if she was gefyrian then David would guess she was around ten years older than Qubine.

"She's beautiful."

Kitt smiles. And now David sees that the expression is quite a lot like the woman's expression in the photo.

"Kitt, I was told that you left the cult when you were young. Did you manage to keep in touch with her, or did she leave with you?"

"She took me and ran away. I didn't have a clear idea what was happening back then, but later when I thought about it again, that was when the cult was raided by Empire police. To be honest I think she did it for the cult, because I was meant to be Qubine's reincarnation... She was probably protecting me from the heathens."

"Ah..."

"But later the court cases happened, a lot of things got exposed, and she realised." Kitt sweeps his hair back absently. "And it took her some time to... readjust, and it took me some time to learn because I didn't know much about family or making friends or just the world in general. But we coped and things were okay. We were the same as lots of other single-parent families, except I wasn't registered anywhere so I couldn't go to school, so she taught me at home. I don't really know what else there is to say. She looked after me, provided for me, she was a good mother and I loved her a lot."

Now that the conversation has started, there is so much David wants to ask, mostly about the cult, but it wouldn't be right to. He is here to try to help Kitt with his grieving process, not to have his own curiosity satisfied.

He points at Kitt's phone. "From that smile, I think she knew how much she meant to you."

Kitt scrolls through some of the other photos he has. "I told her all the time. I said it more to her than I did to any of my girlfriends. I mean... she wasn't well sometimes. I think it's hard, because she devoted ten years of her life to this massive lie, and then she lost her faith, and all the family and friends she used to have. They'd cut all ties with her and didn't want her back. She couldn't go back anyway. Because I exist, she wouldn't have been able to face them. She thought she was doing god's work when in truth she... she raped a boy who was being trapped like a slave. That's hard, you know? Because she was a good person inside. She couldn't deal with what she'd done."

Rehabilitation and counselling would have been impossible for her because she was a criminal. Some would even say that she was a criminal of the worst kind.

David realises, with a start, that he feels sorry for the woman.

"I found out about a lot of things through my own research and when she had those episodes. There was one time when she thought I was Qubine and kept saying sorry that she didn't believe what he told her, and offered to kill herself. Some other times she just couldn't look at me. Especially when I got to teenage and I was starting to look like my dad. She really couldn't take it. That's why I grew my hair out at first."

That strikes a chord with David. "But you still looked after her."

Kitt sighs. "Of course I did."

"Then you're a better person than I am," says David, not meeting eyes with Kitt. "You remember I told you that recently I met my estranged father again, a bit like you meeting Qubine?"

"Yes?"

"This is going to sound unreal, but I also look a lot like my father. My mum went crazy when he walked out, and because I looked like my father, things were not good."

Stunned by the coincidence, Kitt doesn't say anything.

"But instead of taking care of her and making things better, I ran away from home instead."

Kitt takes a moment to digest that. "Well, everyone's different. Maybe it was better that you left home so your mum couldn't see you and then other people could look after her. But I really couldn't leave my mum; she had no one else."

Of all the things that could happen, David would never have imagined he would one day be sitting here talking to Qubine's son and finding forgiveness from someone who really can understand.

"I suppose." David sighs lightly. "Mothers... though, I don't think this is about mothers or women in particular, but about how people may suffer when they are betrayed."

Kitt makes a sound of agreement.

"My mum's condition wasn't as bad as it sounds. She had good days and bad days like everyone. We had this joke, on the bad days I wore a... is it called a balaclava?" Kitt mimics pulling something over his head, and David nods, "and sunglasses at home, sometimes with a funny hat on top. I have a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses too," says Kitt. "Doing that usually helps. It was easier for her as long as I didn't look like my dad."

"Gosh. I wish I had your wits when I was younger."

"Well, she was also paranoid about getting arrested, which I couldn't do anything about. We moved house a lot. I kept telling her it'd been a long time since then and nobody was looking for the cult followers anymore, but..." Kitt's gaze settles on the box of ashes again. "I guess she doesn't have to be scared anymore."

Despite Kitt's efforts, she took her own life in the end.

"You know, David, I think she was tired. She was tired of having lost everything, tired of running away, tired of hating herself. And I can pretty much look after myself now. So she decided she could finally go."

"I'm so sorry."

"Thank you."

"No, I really am." David's throat goes dry. Kitt made it sound like a natural conclusion, but was it? After all these years, why did she choose to take her life now? "You said she was paranoid about being caught. Did things change after the Cosmos Maiden's stalker got arrested?"

Kitt doesn't respond. And that in itself is enough of a reply.

The solar system is so vast, and yet the world is still so small. By taking the stalker, who was a minister of the cult, into custody, David had directly given a reason for Kitt's mother to end her life.

"I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't be here—"

"It's not your fault. I knew as soon as you told me about the Cosmos Maiden incident when we were on Fornstrand. It wasn't your fault. And if you hadn't done it I would never have got in contact with Qubine."

"But—"

"My mum really was tired. That day when I got home and found her body, I wasn't even surprised." It looks like Kitt might start to tear up again. "She was in bed, and she looked so relaxed and restful. Like... tranquil. I think she must have felt at peace towards the end, because she was paying for her crimes. And that's good, because I know she never felt peace all these years. So. I honestly think this is fine. It's like your best friend leaving you to go to a better place. You're happy for them, but you miss them."

Maybe that's the truth. And if it is, David thinks he understands the sentiment. But he no longer knows how he feels about Kitt's mother. And what was it that killed her in the end: the cult that brainwashed and used her? Her own fear and guilt? David's actions? And with her suicide, has justice been served, or has she got away in the end?

No. Stop. It doesn't matter how he feels. This is not his life, not his story. Qubine and Kitt don't need to have to deal with his feelings.

"Should I... would you like me to stay, or should I leave you alone for a while?"

Kitt is pushing his hair around again, as if trying to make a nest out of it to hide in. Apparently it helps him — after a while, he draws a long breath through his lips, and exhales just as deeply, then he seems to look better, calmer.

"Actually, do you mind if I ask... what happened to your mum? Is she..."

Those are not the words David has expected to hear, Kitt caring about him at this sort of time.

"She's fine now. She went to crisis counselling, and I didn't talk to her for about two, three years. In retrospect I don't think what I did was right, but I can't change it now," says David. "You've reminded me that I don't tell her I love her as often as I should."

They both turn around when they hear a little "mrrp" noise. The cat that has been sleeping at the top of the bed near the pillows has just woken up, and tiny limbs are shaking as they stretch. Still lying down, it looks at them, then decides it doesn't care about these new humans and goes back to sleep.

"I think it's your turn to tell me about your mum," Kitt says, his attention returning to David, who smiles, wry.

He's never properly talked about what happened back then to anyone, believing that what passed is past, so talking about it would help nothing, in fact it would do Arianne and himself discredit. But Kitt's candid account has changed his mind. Kitt is proud of his mother, of what she had endured and her acceptance of her own mistakes, and David feels the same about Arianne. He is not ashamed of her.

Besides, he has encouraged Kitt to talk, he would be a hypocrite to avoid the topic himself.

"Yes, I think that's fair."

 

_"So staying on Undelwalt wasn't an option at all? Was it really that corrupt there?"_

_"The cult had money, and the police was easy to bribe. And I knew couldn't rely on the justice system." Qubine snorted. "The Chief Justice and the Police Commissioner were both followers. I knew them far better than I wanted to."_

_There was no mistaking what Qubine meant. At this stage, David had no strength left to maintain any form of composure, so he covered his face in horror._

_"It wasn't just me and my sister. That cult ruined a lot of lives. Many people committed suicide, either as self-immolation or because they found out everything was a complete lie. The Chief Justice killed himself when Empire police came down on the cult and exposed it for what it was. The Police Commissioner was murdered by his wife, as far as I know."_

_"I see..." That article might have mentioned it, but David hadn't read that far. "I can't say I feel sorry for them." Those people deserved it. No, death was too easy, what they really deserved was to rot in jail for the rest of their lives. It was a cult but at the end of the day these people had committed awful crimes out of their own free will, so David would never be able to sympathise with them. He would never want to._

_"There is actually a reason I'm choosing to tell you about this. I mean, apart from the fact that I just want you to know."_

_David's attention snapped back to his surroundings. "Yes?"_

_Qubine tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. "My parents have been in police custody for some time, and it looks like their court trial might finally begin soon. I am required to testify as a prosecution witness," he said. "But this will mean you taking command of the ship in my stead until I return."_

_During the phone call earlier Captain Kitterick also mentioned the trial. "You're going to testify?"_

_"Of course. What I say in court will help put them away for life, and us gefyrians can live very long. Before you get worried: there will be measures in place to protect my identity."_

_"Even so... what are you made of? How do you do this?"_

_"I adapt and I learn." Qubine shrugged like it was nothing. "Is it that amazing? I think what you did in Luhang, navigating through that crazy mission, bringing everyone back alive and keeping the top brass happy — I think that was amazing."_

_That was not even a valid comparison, but never mind. Qubine clearly wanted to do this, and as the old captain said on the phone, Qubine could handle his past if his friends would help him with the present. So David had to step up._

_"Well, I don't think I can do your job, but funny enough your confession that you have no idea what you're doing as Captain is making me feel more confident about taking over."_

_Qubine's smile was faint. "I know how you feel about your vice-captainship, and I'm truly sorry that I'm doing this to you now."_

_For a moment David felt overwhelmed by the need to do something. Give Qubine a tight hug. Apologise for how he acted the past two months as the second-in-command. Thank him for his trust. But he was still too emotional and he couldn't trust himself not to have a break down that Qubine would not want to deal with._

_In the end he settled for light-heartedness once more._

_"Leave the Umbermarici with me. I will hand her back to you mostly intact."_

_"'Mostly intact'," Qubine repeated, lifting an eyebrow._

_"If anything broke it'd just be a chance for you to tinker with her."_

_"What kind of logic is that?"_

_"The kind you can't argue with. I've heard about what you've done when you were an engineer."_

_"I fear I might be giving you too much power."_

_"You chose me, remember."_

_"I'm regretting the decision."_


	39. Chapter 39

There is a conversation that Qubine needs to have with Kitt. He doesn't really know what that conversation is yet, but he has already rescheduled his meeting with the therapist; maybe a chat would help him sort his thoughts out. Or maybe not. Originally Qubine was meant to see her at the start of this shore leave, to talk about his lack of romantic interest in anyone all these years and whether or not that is natural or a result of trauma, but that seems such a trivial thing now.

Now, all of a sudden, he is a father to a wonderful young man who is sensitive to the feelings of others, mild-mannered, who doesn't hold Qubine's long absence against him, and who loved his mother.

And that is what Qubine needs to talk about with Kitt once he figures it out better. He has usually considered what happened at the cult as one prolonged event, and the cult as one whole unit. Should he try to separate Kitt's mother as a single person and try to forgive her as a victim of his parents' lies? But that would require him actively making her mean something to him first — and right now, she doesn't, and he thinks it's better for himself that way.

Qubine doesn't know how he wants to handle this, and therefore he is all the more thankful that David is here. The fact that he doesn't consider Kitt's mother as an individual means he has actually forgotten about her role in Kitt's life, that Kitt might have loved her and her suicide might cause immeasurable pain.

Kitt and David are talking upstairs. It's been about half an hour, so the food Letitia has ordered will be here soon. Qubine looks towards the direction of the stairs, and hesitates. He shouldn't go up, should he?

"Hey, there's something for you."

He must have that "be quiet I need to think" expression on, since Letitia hasn't said much for a while already. But sensing her brother's growing unease, she reaches for the lower shelf of a side table and retrieves a package the size of a shoe box. It's addressed to the cat cafe but with Qubine's name on top. It must be from Rush, then, since Rush was the only one who recently asked for Qubine's address.

"Ah."

"Something you've been expecting?"

"Biscuits." Qubine checks the box. It's very well-wrapped, perhaps he should wait until David is here to open it. "It's a care package from a friend."

He takes a photo of it and sends it to Rush.

**Q:** Animal safari has arrived. Thank you.

Rush's reply comes quite quickly.

**R:** Yay! Are there any casualties?

**Q:** I don't know yet. Waiting for David to open it together.

**R:** Haha I hope you won't get only safari crumbs!   
**R:** You guys gotta share but if you really like it I can send you another box each. Hey can you give me Dave's address anyway just in case?

**Q:** I guess I could but it would be better if you just get it from him?

**R:** Yeah I suppose.

He looks up from the screen when he hears the doorbell — food is here. Letitia answers the door, and finally Kitt and David reappear, Kitt looking clearly tired but relaxed; David has wielded his magic again. Not that Letitia knows, or she has other ideas anyway, narrowing her eyes at the two of them.

"What's with the exhausted but satisfied look? What were you doing upstairs?"

David catches on, and smirks. "Bonding," he says with great emphasis.

Letitia squints at him. "My nephew hasn't even touched the ground for a day yet."

A laugh. "If it was the kind of bonding you're thinking of, it'd take much longer than half an hour, trust me."

If Kitt had cat ears they would be turned sideways in horror. Instead, he just cringes and picks the spot on the sofa between Qubine and Romulen the silver tabby.

As the others dig into the delivered food, Qubine holds up the package from earlier.

"Rush sent us this. Shall we open it?"

David takes a quick glance and reacts with surprisingly little enthusiasm. "Your name is on it, you can do the honours."

The animal biscuits are, by some miracle, mostly intact. Qubine makes a good attempt at putting together some sort of scene with them and takes a picture for Rush. What's been taken out of the box lasts all of five seconds, with everyone taking some for themselves, and even a few of the cats are showing interest too. It's to be expected — Rush's baking is phenomenal.

**Q:** These are a hit. Thanks again.   
**Q:** They really are very good.

**R:** You're welcome :D

David is looking this way.

Something doesn't feel right.

Thankfully, before Qubine tries to decipher the situation, David asks a question that explains half of it.

"You're talking with Rush?"

"Yes?"

David tips his head to the side, his expression trained perfectly neutral, then he nods and resumes eating. Qubine returns to his text.

**Q:** Do you still need David's address?

**R:** Yes pls!

**Q:** Why don't you ask him?   
**Q:** More to the point: are you two not talking to each other?

Unlike the conversation so far, this question doesn't get an immediate reply. But whatever it is, Qubine is certain David isn't at fault — it's too hard to imagine David deliberately ignoring anyone, he just isn't that kind of a person. Unless it's because of how David feels about Rush and the fact that Rush is now seeing someone? If that's the case, Qubine has just casually walked into a minefield. Well, too late to back out now.

 **R:** I was out with Hannah and her sister Hinnah, put my phone down for a second, Hinnah swiped it, looked through my messages and asked me all these questions.

**Q:** I don't understand.

**R:** Dave and I have been talking nearly everyday for over a year, it doesn't look good.

**Q:** So you stop talking to him altogether?

It's not that Qubine doesn't see the problem entirely, but that is very much an overreaction, surely.

**R:** The thing is   
**R:** Dave and I got flirty sometimes  >_> cos that's usually the best way to cheer him up. It's nothing serious.   
**R:** But Hinnah read those messages and I was like YIKES   
**R:** Hinnah is really scary. Hannah really listens to her tho, I'll have no chance if she hates me or thinks I'm flirting with someone else   
**R:** And I barely started with Hannah I don't wanna mess up, so I kinda stopped replying to Dave's messages.   
**R:** And yes I know now I've messed up anyway.   
**R:** Do you think he's mad at me?

Oh dear.

**Q:** I don't know. In the long run this is very silly, however. You need to sort it out.

**R:** Yeah.

Qubine heaves a sigh. He's probably expected to keep this to himself but honestly, as if he actually would. He gives his phone to David, who reads the exchange and shakes his head.

"Well, I don't know if I should laugh or roll my eyes. But I suppose I understand. And Hinnah is scary."

"You know her?"

"She's part of the band. I thought the scariness is just her stage persona, but I guess I was wrong." David gives the phone back. "Thank you. It's good to know it wasn't something I've done."

Qubine hadn't even realised there was a problem, but David is always like that, he's good at taking things on the chin and fixing a problem before anyone even notices, and quietly tolerating the people and situations he must tolerate.

Everyone is tired but in good spirits, it's as if they've just completed a field mission and are celebrating with a quick meal. Letitia does most of the talking, asking Kitt basic questions about himself, excited by every detail he gives her. It's not something they've ever discussed, and Qubine wonders if Letitia would have liked children of her own if she was able to. Perhaps? Or maybe what she desires are people who truly understand their background. Qubine is lucky that he has David and Captain Kitterick who know when to back him up and when to crack the most inappropriate jokes, but Letitia has never met anyone she can trust this far, which is why she warms to David so quickly.

He tells David about this hypothesis a little later on while driving David to his hotel. There actually are very convenient public transport routes, but David has luggage and they would prefer to talk in private anyway.

"It probably has nothing to do with wanting children or someone who understands," says David with a smile and a shrug. "I think she just loves him."

That is a much simpler explanation which Qubine has not considered, but he's happy with the idea. And maybe... once he spends more time with Kitt...

"Are you okay?"

"Hmm?"

"Today isn't just a big day for him. And about what he said..."

David is referring to what Kitt said about his mother, which he has given David permission to summarise for Qubine. It is all very much within the realms of imagination — Qubine would guess quite a few families who were in the cult have had similar experiences. He is simply glad that the woman did what she could as a mother for Kitt, and the fact that they ran away in the first place.

"I'm fine."

"You're worried."

"Of course I am."

"Like I said before, he's capable of looking after himself already."

"I know."

"Then what is it?"

"Being family isn't just about providing, is it."

Qubine doesn't want to just be a sponsor. But will he be able to bond with Kitt the way Letitia and David seem to be doing already? They make it look so simple. If Qubine was forced to tell the truth right this moment, he would admit that he doesn't know if he loves Kitt yet. He cares about the child, certainly, but whether that is borne purely of his sense of responsibility or the love that a father should feel, he doesn't know.

"When we were on Fornstrand he told me he is hoping you'll like him. And he got you to give him a new name, have you forgotten already? You're already a family."

That's not really what Qubine is worried about, but never mind.

"You are right... I am overthinking. I'll figure out this family thing... hopefully before I have to go back to the Umbermarici," he says. "But enough. It's been all about me for weeks. Say, Rush has messaged you by now?"

"Not yet."

"Oh, I thought I saw you typing something."

"That was Torgal and Emma sending me status reports."

"I see. I'm a bit disappointed in Rush, to be honest."

"Well... if I was him I'd be embarrassed too."

Just how flirty were they getting, Qubine wonders. And that can't be nice to David who does — or did? — have feelings for Rush. "Surely he could still have found a way to not ignore you entirely."

"He's realised what he's done wrong, that's better than a lot of other people already."

"But still, that behaviour is immature."

"He _is_ more than ten years younger than you. In fact he's closer to Kitt's age than he is to yours."

That really puts things in perspective. "If you put it that way..." Qubine can't argue with that. Besides, it's not actually his problem.

"New relationship and all that... he's going back to the camp this week and... actually I don't remember where Hannah's from, but she _is_ famous and presumably has a busy schedule. I'd guess he's been trying to make the most out of a limited time and can't spare a moment to think about much else."

As someone who has never fallen head-over-heels for another person before, Qubine will just have to assume David's right. "I wonder if they'll last, or if it's meant to be for the short term, like a holiday romance."

David snorts softly. "You'd know all about holiday romances."

"Excuse me?" Qubine glances at his friend. "What—"

"Are you not going to stick with your story? That you learned to speak Undelwaltian because you fell in love with a girl there when you were in your teens? Now it looks like you actually got the girl pregnant back then."

And Kitt is the result. It all fits, but it makes Qubine feel mortified. "As if I would do that and then run away and not take responsibility!"

"You were young and you made a terrible mistake?"

"Wipe that smirk off your face David."

"Keep your eyes on the road and not my face Qubine."

Qubine huffs. "I'll talk with Kitt to see what kind of a background story he can accept. Maybe I left Undelwalt not knowing the girl was pregnant, something like that." How has he become the topic of the conversation again anyway? He needs to turn it around again. "In any case, you are the one who knows about holiday romances, not me. You've literally just had one with Jakob."

"I wasn't on holiday."

"That makes it even more impressive."

David puts an elbow on the car door and rests his head on his fist. "It was just the one time. If you need to do research you're better off picking up a few novels."

"How my son came to exist: a tale put together from bargain-bin fiction."

"Why not? Nobody's going to really ask for details; you've always been a private person and you have that 'shut up and fuck off' glare you can use if they do ask."

"True, and true."

"I wish I can pull it off."

"The glaring? When you glare at people it looks more like 'I'm extremely annoyed and consequences will follow'. I've seen people freezing on the spot with fright before running away to fix things because you shot them one look."

"That would be because I was extremely annoyed and planning on the consequences at the time. But that's not often."

"No. You're far better at giving people time to learn, for one, and generally more approachable than I am." Qubine says. "Kitt's talked more with you than he has with me."

David lowers his arm and turns towards his friend a little, startled. "That's..."

Ah, bugger. "It's not supposed to sound so accusatory. Sorry."

"No, I should've considered your feelings better. It's just that I'm less important, Qubine. He doesn't need to worry so much about messing up when he talks to me. He asks me a lot about you; I assume you've actually heard many of our conversations."

"I have. And I know what you mean, which is why I said sorry. I think he's just too scared about accidentally bringing up the past and upsetting me or offending me." That is quite obvious really. "I'll find a way to break the ice."

"Hmm. I'll try talking with Rush again too. I think I need to throw him a bone, so to speak."

"You're too nice. Let him fret over it for a while first, people won't learn anything if they're forgiven too quickly."

"Hmm. Maybe."

 

Hannah is going home to Celapaleis soon. Omnistrike just finished a big tour so they have some down time, but Rush is also heading back to training camp in a few days and he has no idea how this relationship is going to work from now on. She's made it clear this isn't just a fling for her and he's chuffed to bits to hear that, but really? She's absolutely amazing, he's admired her for a long time and can't believe his luck right now, but he doesn't love her to the extent that he'd quit his dream job for her. So... they'll just have to see how things go, and Rush isn't getting his hopes up that they'll be together forever.

On a more upbeat note, Rush has never gone out with someone this cool. Not cool as in she writes great songs — which is also true — but cool as in when he plucks up the courage to tell her about Hinnah taking his phone and asking about one of his friends, she admits her twin sister is overprotective and Rush shouldn't worry about her too much. She is just totally chill about it and agrees that flirting is a really good way to make someone feel good about themselves.

Not that it makes Rush feel completely better of course. "You say that..."

"You used to play-flirt with a friend, so what? I'm your girlfriend and she isn't."

"He, actually..."

The revelation makes her give him this odd look, but sooner than Rush can think "uh-oh" she's already smirking at him. "Oh my god..." she goes over to Rush who is sitting on the edge of her hotel bed, and straddles across his lap, "you're so cute when you look sheepish."

"Hey." Rush decides that is not a compliment. It's not easy to be pissed off when she's sitting on him and nibbling on his nose though. "You're not helping."

"Just message him. Say you forgot to reply or something. I do that all the time."

"That's not gonna work..."

"Just do it. You gotta start talking one way or another."

She has a point. And he usually isn't this crappy a guy who'd let this sort of thing happen or take so long to apologise. The longer he leaves this, the more of a douchebag he is.

He fumbles for the jacket behind him, shakes it until his phone drops out, and writes a message to David.

**R:** You know when you get a message when

"Hannah..."

"Hmm?"

"I can't concentrate..."

She laughs, but doesn't stop shifting her hips back and forth on his lap. This really is not helping but knowing Hannah she just isn't going to stop, so Rush tries his best to finish the typing.

**R:** You know when you get a message when you're busy and you think oh I'll reply to that when I get home, and then you forget???   
**R:** Sorry. :x

He hasn't even put the phone down before Hannah's hands are on his shoulders, pushing him to lie down with a strength that shouldn't be possible from someone so tiny. She looms over him, her black hair tickling his face, and grins. He gives her a suspicious look.

"Has finding out that I also like guys and flirted with one put you in the mood?"

Her eyes roll left and right, though she looks anything but innocent. "Maybe?"

"Girls are so weird."

"Yeah, because you don't watch girl-on-girl stuff?"

"But you're not in those. You're talking about me—"

"Come on, Rush, if I was in a lesbian video you'd totally watch it."

Rush is so not going to answer that.

His phone buzzes when he's in the middle of helping her out of her skirt. They both pause, then she shrugs, reaches for the phone and puts it in Rush's hand. Normally anyone would ignore a message at this sort of time, but Rush is trying to apologise for ignoring his best friend here. See? Hannah is so cool.

**D:** Oh thank god I thought you were ignoring me.   
**D:** A trained soldier should be less forgetful. I'm going to tell Qubine not to let you on his ship. ;)

Hannah is gesturing for the phone, so Rush shows her the screen.

"See? I told you it'd work."

"Dave isn't that stupid," says Rush while typing a reply, which is quite hard to do when his girlfriend is busy pulling his jeans off. "He's just letting me off the hook."

**R:** I'M SORRY PLEASE DON'T DO THAT.

"Either way, he's forgiven you." She takes the phone from him and drops it onto the carpeted floor. "Now pay attention to me."

Later on, Rush wakes up to the feeling of a finger lightly drawing across the skin on his chest. So he's dozed off again. He always does that after sex even if it's just for a few minutes; it's funny and awful how much he fits into the marshall male stereotype. It still looks bright outside though, so he couldn't have nodded off for long.

"Hmm?"

"Just remembering where your lines are when you glow," says Hannah as she continues to trace the now-invisible pattern.

Rush chuckles and rests his hand on the small of her back, where she has a pattern of her own in the form of a tattoo. The design is a sword and a blue snake, with flames in the background. It's really, really cool — he keeps using this word — but apparently it doesn't mean anything, it's just something Hannah's sister drew up.

"Your phone buzzed by the way." She rolls away for a moment to retrieve the gadget for him.

**D:** I'll consider it.   
**D:** How are things going then? Update me.

**R:** Things are normal?

"Do you wanna say hi to Dave?"

"Sure."

**R:** And Hannah says hi!

**D:**   
**D:** Please tell her she has my deepest respect for going out with you.

**R:**

Hannah has shifted to lie down next to Rush and pulled the blanket up to cover her shoulders; she gets cold easily. "Show me pictures of your mates then. Who have I just said hi to?"

Rush's most recent pictures of David are the ones they took together just before David left Eulam the last time he visited almost a year ago, though they did see each other at the training camp more recently. He really needs to take more pictures next time they meet up, which should be when he finishes training in half a year's time.

He shows Hannah a photo and just lets her look through the album herself.

"Oh my god," she mutters, swiping to the older pictures and finds one with both David and Qubine in it. "And who's this?"

"That's Qubine. He's a friend of Dave's. Dave's from Athlum, Qubine's from Celapaleis."

"I've not seen them before. Which agency do they work for?"

"What?"

"They're models, right?"

Rush can't help but cackle. "They're both soldiers actually."

Hannah's eyes grow wide. "Shut up! Like, the army?"

"Yeah."

"Damn! I'm gonna join the army, that's where all the hot guys are!"

"Hey!"

"Well, you're there too aren't you?"

"Nice save." Rush grins. "But I get it. They're pretty aren't they."

"Are you sure you don't like Dave? Or Qubine?"

Okay this conversation is gonna get weird if Rush doesn't put a stop to it. He snatches his phone back. "Nope. Not that way anyway."

"Not even a little bit?"

Rush's brain unhelpfully chooses this moment to remind him of the time David almost kissed him, and the time he jerked off thinking about David, and the time he had a not-date with Qubine, and the fact that Qubine smells really nice. But what Hannah doesn't know won't hurt her.

"Not even."

Hannah gives him this look of disbelief first, then she's grinning. "I'm tempted to ask what the hell's wrong with you but hey, you clearly have good taste."

Rush smiles and hugs her really, really tight.

"I know right?"

 

**R:** Stop stealing my girlfriend!

**D:** Excuse me?

**R:** I showed her a pic of you and she called you hot and now she wanna join the army! XD

**D:** Don't hate me because I'm beautiful.   
**D:** Please tell her I'm flattered but please don't stop making music because her work is very wonderful and I'm very homosexual.  
 **D:** Have you got over the fact that you're dating your idol?

**R:** Kind of but not really.   
**R:** nvm me, what are you doing now, where are you?

**D:** Celapaleis. Staying for a little while longer before going back to work.

**R:** So everything's gone okay?

**D:** Yes. The trip was a success.

**R:** And how about you?

David stares at the conversation on the screen. He doesn't know how much Rush and Qubine talk about him. There was once when he told Rush off for telling Qubine that he was having problems, but that conversation got sidetracked by the fact that David showed a video of himself losing his arm without warning Rush about it first, and the issue got left hanging, unresolved.

Well, before the Undelwalt trip suddenly jumped on them and messed up their plans, Qubine did propose that David should spend his holiday here on Celapaleis and also visit Rush on Eulam. So David should just assume that Rush at least knows he's been stressed at work lately.

**R:** Dave please don't get mad but I know work's been getting you down. I don't know the details though, I haven't asked.   
**R:** I know I've been a shitty friend pulling that disappearing act but I really hope things get better for you.   
**R:** If you need to rant I'm here, I swear I won't tell anyone this time, not even Qubine. If ranting makes you more stressed I have videos of stupid cats I can show you.  <3 And juggling sovanis of course.

Yes, Rush does know. And David recalls his decision to open up more to his friends. There are things he can share, especially the good news: just before landing on Celapaleis, he found out that Emmy won't be suffering disciplinary action for not following procedure when she subjugated the Cosmos Maiden's stalker. That feels like a long time ago already, but it really isn't, it's just that so much has happened recently.

**D:** The thing I was stressing over a lot about a while ago has come to a favourable resolution.

**R:** Is it the thing around the time when you came to guest lecture at the camp?

**D:** Yes, that one. I'm very relieved.

**R:** Awesome! So glad for you!   
**R:** Still I've heard that you're really overworked. Can you get more time off now that that thing's sorted?

That makes David smile.

**D:** I am on holiday right now.

**R:** Oh yeah. Hey do you remember we talked about you coming to Eulam when I'm done training? Do you think you can make it?

**D:** Yes, I bargained with HR, they have to give me that time off since I did the guest lectures.

**R:** OMG I didn't realise you were working to get that time off. ;; I was such a dick to you too.

**D:** I thought we agreed we're pretending it never happened.

**R:** <3 It'll be cold when you get here, we can go skiing and stuff! Do you know how?

**D:** Athlum's too warm for that but I've snowboarded once somewhere before and managed not to kill myself.

**R:** Hehe it's alright I can teach you if you need. ;D   
**R:** OH btw I can't find an instructor so do you think you can teach me to drive stick when you're here?

**D:** ......

**R:** S h i t   
**R:** Innuendo aside, really, can you teach me how to drive a manual car?

David snorts at the screen.

**D:** Of course.

**R:** Awesome, thanks so much.   
**R:** Hey I've got a confession to make. I didn't stop talking to you because I forgot to reply...

That admission is not a surprise at all, coming from the person who once apologised for thinking that David got his captainship through connections although the assumption was never said out loud.

**D:** I know about what happened.

**R:** Qubine told you then. I'm sorry for being an idiot. I won't do it again.

**D:** Shush. You need to know when you shouldn't be so honest.

**R:** :x From now on, mates before dates!

**D:** That's also stupid. Have both. :) If it helps, I'm not interested in you.

**R:**

**D:** I'm so sorry.

**R:** Well I should've known a mere peasant like me isn't going to be good enough for the Marquis of Athlum.

**D:** Get to my rank and maybe I'll consider.

**R:** Elitist~!

**D:** Just telling it like it is. Right, I should go. I'm meeting up with friends.

**R:** OK, have fun! Talk later, thanks for being so ace.

Letting out a deep breath, David slips the phone back inside the inner chest pocket of his coat.

"Who's that? Your boyfriend?"

David shakes his head. Since he's on Celapaleis, he's meeting up with a few of the crew from the Umbermarici, some of whom he had grown up with. It's great to get to see them but damn, that question hurts.

"No. Very much not my boyfriend."


	40. Chapter 40

The events are old, but this particular dream is new. And it was a good dream even if he woke up expecting himself to be covered in blood.

Qubine sits up, reaches for a tablet, and notes it down for his therapist — a dream of the time when he and Letitia stole onto the Malystrix 18 years ago. They had waited in the cargo hold, still bleeding from the incisions where they pulled out the tracers from, and Qubine told his sister they would wait a few days, until the ship was well away from Undelwalt before handing themselves in. The wounds should close by themselves eventually. Hopefully it wouldn't get too cold. They would be fine.

They passed time making up stories about the fruitless searches by people who would inevitably try to find them, until they laughed so hard from the pain and the cold and the relief of being _away_ that they were discovered, scanned for weapons and then taken to the medical bay.

After their wounds were treated, they were put in a cell, given food, and made to answer questions. Then Qubine was taken back in the medical bay for another examination to verify his story.

Qubine's last encounter with a man was less than a week ago and he hadn't yet fully healed from it. The medic told him to pulls his trousers back on, and said he would mend faster once they put more food in him. When he was dressed, the medic opened the curtains and nodded at the waiting Captain Ghor who, with a shaking voice and veins appearing on his forehead, told the pilot through the system that they would not be turning the ship around, because he would not allow these mitra children to be hurt again.

Qubine rarely dreams of the past. But when he does, the dreams are always of the long years of hell, being surrounded by fanatics, being made to give himself over. He almost never dreams of those few weeks on the Malystrix. Being believed in, being rescued. Letitia dropping down to her knees when she was told they were going to Celapaleis. The exhilaration that made him feel faint.

And he feels faint now, although he's aware it's just a faint echo of the past and he isn't going to fall over going down the stairs to the kitchen for a drink.

Something is glowing downstairs. Kitt is on the sofa tapping away on his laptop, a steaming bowl of food on the coffee table. Hearing Qubine, he looks up.

"Hey."

"Can't sleep?"

"Just chatting with friends," Kitt points at his computer, then at the food, "and having the leftovers from dinner. Do you want some?"

"No, I'm good, thank you."

Qubine goes to the kitchen, considers his options, and comes out with a hot chocolate with cream on top. He needs to add marshmallows to the shopping list.

Usually he would stay in the living room and watch some TV until he feels ready to sleep again, or just sleep in front of the mini fireplace, but Kitt might prefer to have the space to himself so Qubine decides to head back to his room.

"Qubine? Is it okay if I... what are you drinking?"

"Chocolate."

Kitt lifts his eyebrows, then starts smiling. Qubine squints at him.

"Are you judging me?"

"No, not at all!"

"You were asking?"

Kitt checks his screen before turning back to Qubine, typing without looking at the keyboard. "Is it okay if I took some photos? My friends want to know what kind of place I'm living in."

What an unnecessary question. "This is your home. Take pictures, give them the address if you want," says Qubine. "Just... I assume you know about internet safety. Don't give your contact details to strangers."

Hmm, he actually sounded like a parent just now.

Kitt nods, glances at his screen, and starts cackling. "They just called you cute for drinking hot cocoa with cream in the middle of the night."

What the... "It's hardly worth the live reporting and commentary."

"Haha... it's just that they met you when they came to help me pack, and decided you aren't going to be a conventional dad."

 _Dad_. "I don't even know what a dad should be like."

Kitt's smile becomes a little stiff. Qubine sips his drink — too hot still, and the cream has almost melted — and is about to say goodnight, but Kitt uncurls himself from his laptop and sits up.

"Actually... there's something I want to know if that's okay?"

It isn't as if Qubine is going to get back to sleep soon anyway. He goes over, puts his drink down and sits in the wing chair. The cat that is sleeping on an armrest opens a lazy eye to check what's going on.

"Yes?"

"Would it be okay if I look for work soon? Or would you prefer that I get my Celapaleian down first?"

"You don't need to ask me. Just do whatever you want."

"Well, I wouldn't sound very local if I don't speak one of the native languages. And my accent..."

"That won't matter in most workplaces I'd imagine."

"No I mean, if people realise we're related, and you're supposed to have lived here all your life then... I assume you're kind of famous around here since you're a space captain..."

"I wouldn't use the word 'famous'. And people will be too dumb to notice or too polite to ask. But if they do ask, just don't answer. Or tell them whatever you like — I'll go with it," Qubine tells Kitt, shrugging when Kitt seems unsure. "Just make sure you don't ever put Letitia in a bad position."

He has decided he isn't around enough that he should worry about what other people think, particularly regarding the fine details. His family are the ones who have to deal with people on a daily basis. It'll be easier for them to form personal relationships if they have a story they are comfortable with.

He drinks his hot chocolate a bit noisily, because it's still quite hot. Still looking thoughtful, Kitt finishes his forgotten bowl of leftovers. He has his long hair twisted up into a loose bun and pinned in place with a pen and Qubine is watching it, waiting for it to come apart and fall into the food, but it doesn't.

"Speaking of your aunt, she will set the house rules, not me," Qubine tells Kitt when Kitt puts down his bowl, "because you're living with her. She knows my position on most things — personally I have no problems with you bringing friends over, having someone stay for the night or having the occasional party, but Lettie always comes first. You'll ask for her permission and you'll make sure you don't upset the cats or the neighbours with loud music and such."

"Um. Yes, of course."

"As for staying out, just let Lettie know beforehand, she'd worry otherwise. She worries even when I come home late."

"Haha, okay." Kitt ducks a bit. "So... you don't mind if I have someone stay over?"

Qubine shakes his head. Judging from Kitt's look, this might have been different when he was on Undelwalt. "But don't mess around. I know I didn't raise you but... just be a decent person. That's all I ask. And don't get anyone pregnant without their prior agreement."

It's dark here in the living room, but it's still easy to see that Kitt's face has turned red. "Are we really talking about this?"

"It's necessary," and nothing to be embarrassed about, in Qubine's opinion. "Do you know if you're fertile? Because I'm not supposed to be, and yet here you are."

Kitt covers his face. "I don't know? Should I get tested?"

"I think so."

Behind the hands comes a whimper. "Okay."

"I'm going to assume you don't need The Talk," Qubine says, smirking when Kitt shakes his head furiously. This is much more fun than he could ever have imagined. "Shame, I even read up on it just in case."

Fingers part for Kitt to peek out. "You are enjoying this."

"Such accusation, Kitt." Qubine slurps his drink, his free hand stroking the sleeping cat on the arm of his chair. "Such accusation."

"Are you sure you aren't tired? Maybe you should go back to bed."

"I was hoping you'd now be happier to ask me about anything you didn't dare to ask before."

Qubine has been trying to come up with an icebreaker, and decided the best thing to do is to get any awkward questions out of the way. If Kitt knows him better then he won't worry so much about saying the wrong thing.

"Oh. Um."

"I don't think it's right that you cannot ask the things even some of my friends know. For example, I still dream about the cult once in a while, particularly when there's been news about it."

"Is that why you're up?" Kitt gapes at his father.

"Not exactly. I just had a wonderful dream about getting away from it and arriving here, actually."

"Oh... hmm..." A pause. "David told me you're single? Is that for the long term, or..."

"I've not ever gone out anyone properly. In my early twenties I went on a few dates just to see if I could, but I never wanted to take things further. I don't think it's because of the cult, but I'm talking to my therapist about it to see if I have an actual problem."

"O—oh, really?"

"I do masturbate."

"Qubine!"

Kitt decides to hide face behind his hands again. Qubine wonders if it's because they're related, if Kitt is prudish or if he's just cute and innocent. Not the last, too unlikely.

"That offends you?"

"No just... do I need to know that?"

"You haven't been wondering?"

"Well... but..."

"There you go then." Not that being able to see that funny reaction has anything to do with it, of course. Not at all. "I'm not as broken as you might have previously thought. Anyway, not to say that sex is instrumental to relationships, but the chance of me finding a partner or even getting married is... minimal."

He doesn't say "never" because Kitt's existence has proved that even the most unexpected, the smallest statistical odds can happen. Though, his therapist has said she isn't too worried that he's been single all this time as long as he feels comfortable about it, and he is, so he doesn't see the situation changing.

While Kitt resolutely keeps his face hidden as if that makes things better, Qubine draws his legs onto the seat so that he's half curled up in it.

"About your mother... I have no particular feelings about her, and I don't think I should. To me she was just part of the cult. I accept that she was important to you and she tried to be a good mother, and I'm glad about that. But that is entirely separate and doesn't cancel out her previous deeds. I'm sorry if this hurts you."

There, he's said it, just as his therapist recommended earlier today. He shouldn't try to change the way he's made sense of his feelings over the years just to make Kitt comfortable; Qubine has far more to lose than Kitt has to gain by doing so.

Lowering his hands, Kitt's gaze follows them instead of meeting with Qubine's. "No, that's all right. You have the right to hate her, I shouldn't factor into that. And she's gone now, she doesn't feel anything anymore," he says, sighing. "I don't even know why I took her ashes with me, it's just a bunch of burnt... stuff; I don't believe in the Sacred Lands or Underworld anything like that." Mentioning what was preached by the cult, he chuckles awkwardly. "I don't think she's watching over me. She's just dead."

That's a little surprising to hear for Qubine. "You don't have to have a reason." Damn, he isn't good at the sentimental stuff. What would David say in this situation? "Sometimes people's actions don't follow their own logic. It's just a human thing."

Yes, that sounds good and makes a lot of sense too. Qubine is happy with that, and it seems to have comforted Kitt a little.

"I think... I want to do something with the ashes. Maybe plant a tree or something. There should be options."

"There should be." Qubine puts his drink down. "I can keep offering information, or you can start asking things."

"Right," says Kitt. "Do you mind that I call you by your name?"

"No, it doesn't feel wrong to me."

"What were you expecting when you went to pick me up?"

"Someone with a much more extreme personality, either rebellious or very shy. Unstable, in the worst case. You did sound rather normal on the phone, but I thought in person things would be different."

"Is it because you're a space captain that Celapaleis accepted me so easily?"

"I suspect my status has something to do with it, yes."

"If I hated cats what would you have done?"

"I would have rented a place for you nearby. And doubted if you really are my offspring."

"Did you name me after your cat or after your old captain?"

"Yes."

Kitt cackles. "I really need to know. Please."

"It was a name I nearly chose for myself, but in the end I picked 'Qubine' and gave 'Kitterick' to the cat."

The small smile on Kitt's lips widens, like someone who's unwrapped a gift and is happy with what they've been given. It's adorable and instantly infectious and so, so strange — to Qubine, it is almost like watching a reflection of himself at exactly Kitt's age, grinning ear to ear when he was told he would need to pick a new name to start a new life in Celapaleis.

That's what it is, Qubine realises. David said that Kitt talked about caring for his mother like it was nothing, but it must have been a hard burden to bear for a growing child. Kitt's birth wasn't registered on Undelwalt either, so he couldn't receive health care, have a bank account or something as basic as an identity of his own, an official name. But his mother has passed on as peacefully as she could, and he doesn't have to move house several times a year anymore. He has a name, he is allowed to be somebody. He is allowed to have a future, and he has family who loves him. Kitt's smile right now is so much like Qubine's back then because those feelings are the same.

And yes, of course Qubine loves Kitt. How daft of him to even worry about that before. He wants Kitt to be happy, wants Kitt to have the same freedom he felt after leaving an old life behind. This has nothing to do with obligation or guilt.

"Kitterick though. You said you got him when you moved in here? He wasn't too much to handle for you and Letitia?"

"Someone from the Malystrix — the ship that took us here — had a cat who just had kittens, and we got given him. We were also given this place after the crew pooled together some money and rented it for us." Qubine gestures around them. Captain Ghor had volunteered to sign up as their sponsor as soon as it was allowed. The kindness and generosity of Ghor and his crew had helped Qubine see that there could be good in people. "Changes came very fast, there was a lot to take in and Kitterick... having him helped, actually, since he turned out to be a very calm, easy-going animal. In retrospect it was a terrible idea to give a kitten to people in our situation, we were just lucky."

"What was he like? Was he just normal kitten size?"

"There are photos. Go into the home network, they should be there somewhere."

Going to hunt for the pictures right away on the laptop, Kitt shifts aside a little so that Qubine can join him on the sofa. Following Letitia's logical filing system, it doesn't take them long to find what they're looking for.

"He was so tiny! I can't believe he grew to his size now!"

Kitterick was very small indeed. Qubine has forgotten just how cute the cat was. Not to say he isn't cute now, of course. "Puppies start off small too, it's not that abnormal."

Coming across a picture of a younger Qubine holding the kitten, Kitt gasps. "You were also on the tiny side."

Qubine snorts and says nothing. Watching his son browse the photos, a thought comes to him.

"What did you look like as a child? Do you have pictures?"

Fingers pausing over the right arrow of his keyboard, Kitt turns his gaze back to Qubine. "Only from the last two, three years. Nothing before that."

"I see."

"Sorry."

"That's not a problem. You can show me using neoteny."

"W-what? No!" Kitt reels back as if horrified, one knee bumping into the coffee table with a painful-sounding crack. The cat on the chair Qubine was sitting in a moment ago jolts awake.

That is a larger reaction than Qubine might have expected. "Why not?"

Kitt is wincing and clutching at his knee. "It's embarrassing! A-and I wouldn't have anything to wear!"

"It's only for a few minutes."

"No!"

"If you really want I can get some children's size—"

"Just no!"

Maybe some emotional bribery would help here. "You're going to deprive me of—"

Or not. "Yes I am. I can't believe you even suggested it!"

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"It's super weird to be a kid when you're much older in your head. Besides, would you show people what you looked like as a kid?"

"You'd be surprised..."


End file.
